Alphabetical
by Sara Holmes
Summary: HP/DM. 26 Harry/Draco one-shots for each letter of the alphabet as requested by you guys. Warnings for silliness, adult language, humour, angst, sexual content, camera abuse and runaway toast.
1. A

**Alphabetical**

This is what happens when I get given prompts, one for each letter of the alphabet. Featuring slash, silliness, amphibians, bad language, misuse of muggle technology, Nargles, spoofs, humour, small children, Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, angst, MATURE sexual content, fluff, camera abuse, footwear induced tantrums and runaway toast.

* * *

A is for Aeroplane

* * *

"I don't like this."

"Tough."

"I'm telling you, it won't work."

Harry threw an exasperated glance in Draco's direction who stared stubbornly back, emphasising his point by folding his arms tightly across his chest.

"It will be _fine_," he said to reassure the blonde, who underneath the superb petulant brat act was clearly nervous about flying Muggle style. Harry had explained a thousand times that there was nothing to worry about, how thousands of planes took off around the world every day and nothing went wrong. He had even stupidly and somewhat carelessly tried explaining that flying was no more dangerous than apparating. That idea caused more trouble than intended in the wake of the incident a few months back in which after a fight with Harry whilst out, Draco had bravely (or stupidly) attempted to apparate home whilst drunk. That had _not_ ended well.

"I can't believe you're making me do this," Draco huffed, throwing himself against the back of his seat.

"Excuse you?" Harry began indignantly, stopping and quickly glancing around then lowering his voice so no-one could hear them. "If I remember rightly, _you_ were the one who got themselves a six month international portkey travelling ban."

"Completely not my fault," Draco said immediately.

"You were so rude you made the poor guy stamping passes _cry_, Draco," Harry said pointedly.

"He deserved it," Draco retorted.

"No he did not- _ouch!_"

Harry winced as Draco grabbed hold of his arm in panic as the plane started to slowly move, beginning its taxi to the runway.

"I've changed my mind," Draco said, nothing short of terror plastered across his face. "Rome can wait."

"Too late," Harry said gently. "Once you're on there's no getting off."

Draco looked at him with wide eyes and when he received no contradiction he leant forwards with a groan, resting his forehead on his knees and putting his hands on the back of his head, fingers laced together. Harry was amused for a second; it seemed Draco already knew the brace position and the stewardess hasn't even demonstrated it yet.

Harry rubbed Draco's back with a sigh, using small gentle circles designed to calm him down. "You know," he said carefully after a while. "Muggles have this thing they call the mile high club."

"I don't care," came the muffled reply.

"Oh," Harry said, now tracing his fingers up and down Draco's spine. "I would have thought that would _definitely_ be something you'd be interested in."

The suggestive tone of his voice worked a charm and sure enough, Draco moved his hands and tilted his head to the side, looking at Harry with an irritated but undeniably interested expression on his features.

"I'm listening," he said shortly.

"Well, the mile high club…" Harry leant over to whisper in his ear. "It's like a challenge…you get to say you're a member, _if_ you have sex on an aeroplane."

Draco sat up so quickly he nearly head-butted Harry, eyeing him suspiciously. "You wouldn't dare."

"I will if you will," Harry leant up close again to breathe in Draco's ear. The blonde shivered as Harry's warm breath ghosted over his ear and Harry smiled, knowing just how much of a treat the offer was to Draco, who was distinctly more adventurous when it came to sex than Harry. Not that Harry didn't mind playing around in the bedroom, but truth be told, behind their bedroom door was where he preferred to keep their illicit activities.

"Now?" Draco asked hoarsely.

"No, it only counts when the plane's in the air," Harry explained, his voice at a murmur. "Hence the phrase _mile high_."

"When?" Draco asked, shifting slightly in his seat, just enough for Harry to notice.

"The moment that sign goes off," Harry said, turning to point at the glowing seatbelt on sign above their heads.

Draco's eyes snapped to the sign and he sat back in his chair, fear apparently forgotten even as the plane lined itself up on the runway, moments away from take-off.

"Draco," Harry began, laughing.

"Shush," Draco said impatiently, waving Harry away with a hand, his eyes still fixed firmly on the sign. "I'm watching. There is no way you are bailing out of this one."

Harry chuckled and sat back, resting his hand on Draco's knee and looking absently out of the window. That was easier than expected; only took one bribe of sex in a public place to distract Draco on this occasion. Harry shook his head, grinning again. God but he loved Draco's one track mind sometimes.


	2. B

B is for Badminton.

* * *

"Now I hope that was worth it," Hermione said sternly, pointing her wand at Harry's swollen and rapidly blackening eye to heal it. "He's going to sulk for _days_."

Harry winced as the charm took effect on his eye, reducing the swelling considerably. "I know, I'll make it up to him, I swear."

He paused and then grinned, holding his newly acquired Galleon up to inspect. "At least I made some money out of it."

* * *

_Five minutes previously…_

* * *

"So then the keeper goes right and any idiot could tell that they should have stayed central…" Ron said impatiently, deftly swinging the racket around in his hand to demonstrate the movement of the keeper.

"Why have you got a badminton racket?" Harry asked curiously, leaning back against the island countertop that was in the middle of the Granger-Weasley kitchen.

"Oh, is that what this is?" Ron asked, examining the racket with interest. "Hermione said she was going to that bagmimton thing to keep fit." He cast a fond glance over the kitchen to where Hermione was stood on the opposite side of the island counter, engaged in a somewhat heated argument (or as they called it, a 'hypothetical debate') with Draco over their potions work.

"And you never questioned what _bagmimton_ was?" Harry asked, amused, his own glance shooting to Draco who was leant over the island counter on his elbows, his chin on his fist and a frown on his face. He and Hermione could never resist from discussing work when they met and it drove Ron and Harry insane.

"Nope," Ron shrugged. "I've been using this to squash spiders, it's really great for hitting things with…" he slowly trailed off, staring at the racket in his hand like he'd just realised something.

Harry watched, nonplussed, and then Ron's gaze shifted to Draco and then back to the racket. Harry frowned and then comprehension dawned as he looked back to his other half; the way Draco was leant forwards over the counter meant he was unwittingly presenting a _perfect_ target for the racket still in Ron's hand.

Harry looked back at Ron, his eyebrows raised wickedly, silently daring him to do it. Ron paused and then held out the racket to Harry.

Trying not to laugh, Harry shook his head and nodded to Ron in an indication that _he _should do it. There was no _way _he would be the one to his Draco over the arse with a badminton racket, _he_ would undoubtedly get murdered. Or lose sex privileges for a while and he wasn't sure it was worth it.

Ron held up a finger in a gesture to wait, and then fished around in his pocket, pulling out a Galleon and holding it and the racket both out to Harry. _Oh. _Well now it was different. Now it was a challenge with a prize on the line, a bet that Harry wouldn't have the guts to do it. Ignoring the fact the prize was only a single Galleon, Harry gave in on principle and reached out with a grin to take both items from Ron's hand.

A grin was on Ron's face and his eyes were wide as Harry glanced from the Galleon back to Draco's arse which was indeed stuck out at just the most delicious angle- which was coincidentally also a perfect angle for lots of things other than badminton based assaults, but they were in Ron and Hermione's kitchen and he firmly derailed that decidedly inappropriate thought train.

"_Chicken," _Ron muttered and Harry pulled a face at him, before raising the racket and preparing to swing, his last thought before the racket made contact with Draco's arse with a wonderfully loud smack being, _I wonder if he'd let me do this in private…_

* * *

I'm in the process of replying to reviews on the epilogue of Get Some- but some of you have been asking me questions and have got the private messaging system disabled, so I can't reply to them! So either fix it or I will assume all your questions are hypothetical and you will get no reply :)


	3. C

C is for camping

* * *

Someone requesting a C for Camping and I _know _what you were after, so of course I did the exact opposite. The Drarry camping experience you were looking for would be far too delicious to squash into less than a 1000 words. Watch that one-shot shaped space…

And points to anyone who can a) guess which game I recently acquired b) enlighten me to any issues with email notifications- I'm not getting any!

* * *

"Fuck! We're getting owned!" Ron shouted, putting his hands on his head as a curse or a hex hit the edge of the dirt trench they were currently holed up in, showering them with dirt and stones and bits of twig.

"What's owned?" Harry yelled back, hastily pulling his feet in so his toes wouldn't get hit with any rogue hexes.

"Beaten!" Ron bellowed.

"How far off the flag are we?" Harry asked and Ron took a tentative look around the edge of the trench, only to fall back as a jet of red light flew over his head. "Shit! We're only twenty feet off, but they've got someone camping the flag-"

"Camping?" Harry asked, bewildered. He was really regretting buying Ron a Muggle games console for his birthday; the phrase and slang he'd picked up were confusing everyone and driving Hermione up the wall.

"Yeah, some little fucker is sat on the flag and not moving to go get ours, which is CHEATING!" Ron bellowed over the top of the trench. Harry swore he could hear a laugh in answer, and other hex hit the edge of the trench, scattering more dirt over them.

"This is insane," Harry muttered, wiping his glasses on his sleeve. He was having the time of his life in Auror training, no doubt about it, but this game (or focused outdoor training exercise as the bosses called it) they were playing wasn't going too well, namely because their team was losing. He was just thankful that today it wasn't raining.

"Nothing for it, we'll have to go," Ron shouted and Harry nodded.

"Alright, one out each side on three- one, two THREE!"

They both scrambled up and dived out of the trench either side; Harry getting the better deal because of the tree that flanked his side of the trench which provided a moments cover from whoever was sat by the flag. As he swung around it and into the open, his heart was pounding; even if this _was_ just a training exercise his adrenaline was still sky high- he heard a crash behind them and turned to shoot a stunner at the blue clad person who had just stumbled through the undergrowth, hitting them dead on and he instantly turned back to fix his eyes on the flag-

"AARGH!" There was a flash of red and a thud and Harry knew Ron was down, and he had to keep going because once he'd grabbed that blue flag and charmed it to their team colour of red they'd win and the game would be over. Ten feet and gaining, he was going to make it-

"Protego!"

Harry hit the shield charm that came up five feet from the flag so hard he fell backwards onto his back, groaning and winded.

"How predictable. Accio," an amused voice drawled and he felt his wand yanked out of his hand. Great. Now he couldn't charm the flag even if he reached it. Rule one of Auror training: never lose your wand. Although he was rapidly considering upgrading his second rule: 'never underestimate Draco Malfoy,' to the top spot.

Harry blinked and he saw the oh so familiar figure crouch down next to him, brushing his hair off of his forehead with slender fingers and straightening his glasses.

"Just like last night, Potter," Draco murmured, his eyes alight with suggestion. "All I have to do is sit and wait and you come running straight to me."

Propping himself up on his elbows, Harry scowled but before he could retort a hand had grasped the back of his head and Draco's mouth was on his, kissing him firmly, making his heart leap and a moan slip past his lips.

Draco pulled away, panting slightly. "And after I win this game, I might just be waiting for you…in the showers maybe?" He grinned, pressed another quick kiss to Harry's lips and then stood up.

"Incarcerous," he said, and Harry found his hands and feet bound. Draco cocked his head to the side and eyed Harry who was bound and helpless, smirking again with undisguised interest on his face. "Now _that's_ a game I'd like to play in private."

And then he was walking away in the direction of Harry's team flag, carefully glancing left and right, twirling Harry's wand between his fingers and looking back with a wink.


	4. D

D is for dancing

* * *

You guys asked for it so here it is!

And yes, it is Call of Duty that is ruining my life and throwing my update schedule out the window, so blame that for this being late. (See C is for camping)

* * *

"Let's just get this over with," Draco sighed, rolling his sleeves and kicking his shoes off, simultaneously flicking his wand so all the furniture in the room moved smartly out of the way, leaving a large open space on the wooden floor in the centre of the room. "Shoes off Potter."

"You know I will actually be wearing shoes at the wedding," Harry said casually.

"I don't want my toes broken. And you _still_ haven't got this. You get shoes when you can dance without tripping over," Draco said firmly, turning his back on Harry and crouching down to fiddle with the CD player that was sat on the polished oak floor.

"A CD player in Malfoy Manor? Really?" Harry asked, starting to grin.

"Bite me, Potter."

"You wish," Harry retorted and Draco swore at him over his shoulder without turning around.

"Look, I'm not thrilled about doing this in my house this time but I said I'd teach you so there we go," Draco said a little tiredly. "You ready?" he asked, rolling up his sleeves carefully.

"Not really," Harry sighed.

"Well you either do this or face the wrath of Granger," Draco told him. "Her wedding, her rules."

Harry nodded glumly, scuffing his toe on the floor. "I know," he sighed. "I just don't get why _I_ have to learn to dance. It's Ron she should be worrying about."

"She _is _worrying about him. His sister is attempting to teach him, which is why I've ended up stuck with you," Draco said, stepping up to Harry. "And you're the best man so you can't make a twat out of yourself. Hands."

"What?" Harry asked taken aback.

"Give me your hands, Potter," Draco repeated impatiently, holding his hands out. "You know the drill."

Harry rolled his eyes and then took them. "Have you been invited by the way?" he asked and Draco shot him a funny look as he placed Harry's hands in position.

"I work in the same lab as Granger for forty hours a week. Of course I've been invited."

"Who're you going with?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"I said I'd been invited, I didn't say I was going," Draco said. "Now stop nosing in on my business and move that foot first-" he nudged one of Harry's feet with one of his own, "and we're going left, you remember the pattern yes?"

"Yes, we've been doing this for three weeks," Harry said impatiently.

"You should know it then," Draco retorted and flicked his wand at the CD player to start the music and then he moved and Harry hastily remembered he was supposed to be moving as well and took a step.

It wasn't that bad this week; Harry concentrated hard on remembering what he already knew from Draco teaching him and they managed a whole twenty seconds of movement before Harry stumbled and they lost the pattern.

"Not bad," Draco said and one fair brow lifted slightly. "You went wrong because you need to step back onto that foot before you start the whole thing again."

"Right," Harry said with a nod, and then they were moving again and this time they only moved for half as long before Harry stepped the wrong way and came rather too close to stepping on Draco's toes.

"Fuck," Harry cursed. "I can't do this."

"Yes you can," Draco said. "You just need to practise and stop worrying, don't think so hard about it. Come on, go again."

They set off again and managed over a minute of interrupted movement before Harry's concentration was broken by Draco's casual sounding voice. "So you're going with Ginny Weasley then?"

"I'm going to be too busy making sure Ron's in the right place to be _going_ with anyone," Harry said.

"Oh the burden of being best man," Draco sighed dramatically and Harry chuckled, and then stopped moving as the song ended.

"Not bad at all," Draco said, eying him critically. "Looks like my hard work has paid off."

"You mean all your shouting and stamping on my toes?" Harry asked wickedly and Draco laughed.

"What's this song?" Harry asked, frowning as another started up, a much slower one than the track he'd be learning to dance to.

"I don't know, probably one of Granger's choices for her and Weasley's first dance. She just threw the CD at me and said you had to know tracks one and four."

"Is there a dance Ron has to learn for this one too?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling thankful he wasn't Ron in this scenario. Two dances was quite bad enough.

Draco looked up at him quickly and a wicked smile slowly quirked his lips. "Want me to show you?"

And before Harry could answer Draco stepped up even closer to him so their bodies were touching from chest to thigh, and Draco put Harry's hands on his waist and wrapped his arms around his neck.

"Whoa. You're close," Harry said, startled.

"This only works if I'm close," Draco said and he was so close that his nose was almost touching Harry's and Harry's heart was hammering and he couldn't look away and then Draco had closed the distance between them and kissed him, before pulling away slightly.

Harry was stunned. Well that had been unexpected, but reflecting on it, really quite fucking brilliant. He let out a short breathless laugh, not able to hold back his smile. "Wow."

"So… I get first dance if I decide to come to this damn wedding," Draco whispered and Harry laughed, then nodded and gently kissed him back.

* * *

Under a 1000 words by my count!


	5. E

E is for Eclipse

* * *

"Give it back!" Draco shouted, hurtling down the stairs and running through to the living room, skidding on the wooden floor in his socks, reaching out to grab the back of Harry's T-shirt and missing by inches. "Potter! Give- me- it- BACK!"

"Not a chance," Harry said, leaping over the back of the sofa, diving off the other side and tripping over the coffee table on the other side, staggering slightly as he wheeled around to face Draco, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Come on," Draco pleaded, following Harry and climbing over the back of the sofa, standing on the cushions with a hand outstretched, ready to pounce if Harry ran back across the room past the sofa.

Harry eyed him warily, obviously trying to calculate an escape route. "No, reading this bloody thing is killing your brain cells."

"And _you're_ not?" Draco replied, frustrated. "It's just a book-"

Harry grinned in triumph. "Yeah, then why do you want it back so badly?"

"Because I like it- Harry, please," Draco said, well aware he was now whining. He ended up doing that more than he really liked, now he was living with Harry. Sure, it was _great _being out of the Manor and being able to wake up with Harry every morning and have sex whenever the mood took them (which was probably more often than could be considered healthy) was fantastic, but right now he just wanted to punch him in his stupid grininng face.

Harry shook his head, giving the book in his hand a disgusted glance, wrinkling his nose. "Over a thousand books in the library at your Mum's and you're reading _this_?"

"I'll cook you dinner if you give me it back," Draco said instantly and Harry laughed.

"Nice try. You're cooking dinner anyway."

Draco scowled at him, taking a step left on the sofa, his foot sinking into the cushions and making him wobble a little. Harry immediately took a step away from him to the right.

"I should burn it, for your own sanity," Harry said seriously. "You reading this is making me worried about your mental state-"

"No!" Draco lunged off of his position on the sofa and tried to grab Harry who was much quicker and ran around to the other side of the coffee table, laughing.

"I'll…clean the entire house," Draco said a little desperately, his hands balled into fists.

"No you won't," Harry retorted incredulously. "You _hate_ cleaning."

Draco growled in frustration. "Fine! I'll…let you do that _thing_."

Harry's eyes widened. "The _thing?_"

"Yes," Draco huffed.

"With the ties?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Yes," Draco said tetchily. "With the ties _and_ the blindfold _and_ the spoon, if you just give me my fucking book back."

Harry grinned widely at him and then threw the book back at him without warning. Draco managed to cach it, hugging it tightly to his chest as he scowled back at Harry, moving back and dropping down to sit on the sofa.

"Pfft," Harry made a dismissive noise, shaking his head fondly before walking past and kissing Draco on-top of his head who stubbornly refused to kiss him back, turning his head away with a glare. "_Eclipse._ What kind of name for a book is _that _anyway_?_"


	6. F

F is for Frog

* * *

"Draco! You in?"

Harry shoved through the door to the kitchen with difficulty, his arm full of files and folders. He looked up and then stopped dead as he saw not Draco in their kitchen, but Fred and George Weasley, who span around at the sound of his voice, at once looking perfectly unconcerned and innocent.

"What have you done?" Harry asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowed. "Why are you in my kitchen?"

"Do we not even get a hello?" George asked in mock hurt. "Harry, where have your manners gone?"

Harry wasn't fooled. "My manners are the least I have to worry about when I get back to my house and find you two here instead of Draco. Is he not back yet?"

George and Fred glanced at each other and Harry felt a sudden flash of foreboding.

"What have you done to him?" Harry asked instantly. "Seriously guys, he was pissed for like a week when you fed him that nosebleed nougat, you wrecked his favourite shirt-"

"_We _didn't wreck his best shirt," Fred pointed out unhelpfully. "He was the one who bled all over it, not us."

"That's not the point-" Harry groaned, dropping his stack of files onto the table and rubbing his face. "You haven't done anything to him, have you…?" he trailed off as he spotted something behind them on the table, a something which immediately increased his concern tenfold.

"Guys, what's in the box?"

"What box?" They asked simultaneously.

"That box." Harry said, pointing at the box that was on the table behind them: a small-ish cardboard box with holes along the side- a box quite clearly and worryingly designed for holding and transporting living things.

"Oh!" Fred said, looking at the box in surprise as if he'd never noticed it until then.

"_That_ box," George said, scratching his head. "Well, now you ask…"

"Guys, if it's dangerous I want it out the house," Harry said firmly.

"It's not dangerous," Fred said quickly.

"Well, I'm betting he will be when he changes back…" George muttered and Fred elbowed him.

"What?" Harry shouted. "Is that-? What have you two _done_?"

"It _should_ have worn off in a couple of minutes," George said defensively.

"What should wear off?" Harry demanded. "You've got two seconds to show me what's in that box, or so help me-"

"We invented a new Wheeze, based on a Muggle story called the Princess and the Frog…" Fred explained as George carefully opened the box, peering inside. "You know…the story where the princess has to kiss the Frog to turn him back into a person…" Fred said.

"You didn't," Harry said weakly, and promptly had to lean on the back of the chair to support himself as George turned around, and sat in the palm of his hand was a small white frog.

"Please tell me that's not my boyfriend," Harry said faintly, his eyes fixed on the frog.

"Well. Technically-"

"_George!_"

Harry had to sit down. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "You realise he's going to blame _me _for this-" he paused, collecting himself and taking a deep steadying breath. "Can you not change him back?"

"I think if one of _us_ changed him back it'd just make him madder," Fred said with a grin. "That's why we waited for you."

"Oh no," Harry said, realising where this was going and standing up quickly, the chair scraping back across the floor. "I am not- I'll wait for it to wear off!"

"Erm, about that…" Fred said casually.

"The charm's definitely what you would class as…experimental." George finished.

"So it won't wear off?" Harry asked incredulously. "Are you two _insane_?"

"According to most people, yes," George said brightly. "Now just kiss the frog and we can all go home."

He held his palm out where the white frog sat patiently looking at them. Harry looked blankly at the frog that used to be his boyfriend and then at Fred and George who eyed him identically and expectantly, George's hand still outstretched.

"I have to kiss it?" Harry asked a little desperately. "Cant I just, I don't know- hold it or something?"

"Nope. Kissing invokes powerful magic, why the charm is so easy to pull off," Fred said.

"If it's that easy how did you bugger it up?" Harry asked grumpily. "What if you gave it to someone who didn't have anyone to kiss them? You should have made sure it'd bloody wear off!"

"Well that's why we tested it on dear Draco," George said, reaching for Harry's hand, holding it up and dropping the frog onto his palm. "We knew you'd want him back."

"You two are bastards," Harry said and they both nodded happily. "You tell anyone, and I'll hurt you," he threatened.

"What would we tell?" Fred asked innocently "That you kissed Draco? Darling, you do that in front of everyone anyway."

"Fuck," Harry breathed, and bought the frog up to eye level. Draco was definitely going to be _beyond_ pissed about this one, but he guessed an angry Draco was better than a frog Draco any day.

And with that not so comforting thought in mind, he bought the frog close up to his face, scrunched his eyes shut, and then kissed it.

He pulled back quickly, opened his eyes fractionally and saw the frog still sat in his palm. He was about to turn his eyes on Fred and George, when-

SLAM

The front door had slammed audibly and Harry now heard a familiar voice and footsteps coming towards the kitchen-

"Harry? You in? Sorry I'm late, I got held up-"

"You BASTARDS!"

Harry dropped the frog on the table as Fred and George fled, cackling madly. The trio nearly flattened Draco on the way out who hurriedly backed up against the wall, looking alarmed as Harry chased Fred and George from the house, shouting and cursing furiously.

"Harry!" he shouted after them, and then he stopped, shut the door and shrugged, deciding he didn't really want to know. He wandered into the kitchen and at first saw nothing amiss, but then his eyes spotted a small white frog crawling stealthily over the table.

"What the-"

He went over and picked it up, looking around, confused. "Where the hell did you come from?" He looked over the table and saw nothing else out of place, just the usual newspapers, Quidditch magazines and a stray chocolate frog that Harry had obviously unwrapped and left out, _again_.

"I'll find somewhere for you in the lab," he told the frog, looking at it carefully. "Not to experiment on though, you're too nice a colour to fuck around with."

He made to step away from the table and then backed up and snatched up the chocolate frog as well, eyeing it with satisfaction before taking a bite. That'd teach Harry to leave chocolate lying about the house-

He paused, a frown slowly dawning over his face as he swallowed. Well, _that _didn't taste right…

* * *

If anyone watches Supernatural and knows what I'm talking about- reading back the 'what's in the box' line made me laugh, a lot.

Oh and I need a G. Or we ain't gettin' no further with this!


	7. G

G is for Ghosts.

* * *

And we have a winner! I started writing about 4 different drabbles for G based on your suggestions, but this one really took hold. I think it's because it's a bit different to the others I've posted and I like having a go at doing something different every once in a while. Anyone got any H's? I'm thinking rude.

* * *

Harry is sick. He at least knows that much. He knows because when it started he could feel it in his bones and in his body- fever and aches and burning sickness. Now, he's not sure what's happening to him. Days and nights blur into one feverish dream and he sees things, unsure of whether they're real or visions bought on by his temperature and lack of food and the potions they keep feeding him.

After a while, he sees ghosts. Visits from old friends and enemies alike; they talk to him and smile or scowl or cry at him. At first he was terrified, panicking, knowing he was hallucinating, but now he's lost all sense of reality he actually welcomes the visits from the shadowy figures. He misses his friends- the sickness doesn't let him know when he's truly awake anymore so he hasn't spoken to them in days. He thinks he hears Ron's anxious voice every once in a while, and sometimes he swears he can see Hermione, but he just doesn't know.

The first ghost to visit was Cedric Diggory. He just stood in the corner of Harry's room and smiled sadly. The second was Peter Pettigrew who wouldn't come close and only said "_I'm sorry," _over and over again_. _The third was Sirius, who sat on the end of Harry's bed and talked eagerly to him about all the times Harry had visited him at Grimmauld Place, asking if he remembered.

Some ghosts he doesn't recognise. People with blurry faces or strange voices, mixed with faces he knows too well: Lupin, Tonks, Fred, Tom Riddle, Lucius Malfoy, Dumbledore, Bellatrix Lestrange…sometimes they talk, sometimes they don't, but they always fade eventually.

One day he sees a ghost that seems different to the others. He can't see his surroundings anymore, just white light and vague shapes. And through this white light approaches a silhouette, and a figure crouches down next to him, their face becoming marginally clearer as Harry blinks.

"Potter."

The word is a whisper and it sounds like it is coming from underwater, or muffled through glass and Harry is sure he recognises the voice. He blinks harder and sees blonde hair and a pale face, but he can't focus properly because the light is too bright.

The ghost reaches out and touches his cheek, and its fingers are ice-cold. It stands up and Harry sees the way the light breaks around its silhouette, then it leaves.

The ghost that touched him comes back, again and again, always stepping easily through the white light. It presses its cold hands against Harry's burning forehead, and feeds him sips of cool water, gives him potions that Harry doesn't think will help. When this ghost is here, all the others don't dare to come close. They skulk in the corners, and Harry can see them out the corner of his eye but they disappear when he tries to look at directly at them, just like stars do sometimes. But this ghost stays right there and Harry can watch, see, feel and hear it. He likes the ghost's voice; even though he can't really discern individual words anymore, he appreciates the gentle murmuring. It calms him, makes the sickness a little less terrifying.

One day, he can barely see his ghost because the light is so bright. He knows he's there because the light is breaking and shifting as he comes closer, and then two cold hands are on his cheeks, and the ghost gently kisses him with trembling lips that are just as cold as its fingertips.

Two days later, Harry opens his eyes and he finds he can see. The white light is receding, slipping away out of the window and under the door and he can see his room again- the green bedspread, the wooden chair next to his bed with an open book on the seat, the array of potion bottles on his bedside table.

The ghosts are gone.

He can feel his body again, how his legs ache and his eyes sting and his back hurts and his heart is breaking because he knows that now he's awake the ghosts won't ever come back. His pale, cold, blonde ghost won't be coming back again-

Just as the last of the white lights slides away, the door opens and in walks Draco Malfoy. His gaze falls on Harry and his jaw drops as he sees him awake, and he is shouting back down the stairs before running over to Harry's bed and sitting on the edge next to him.

"You're back," he says, his voice cracking, and Harry knows for definite that this voice is the same murmuring voice of his ghost, but now it's real and he can understand every word. He nods slowly and Draco reaches out and cups Harry's face in his hands, shaking violently and looking paler than he did when Harry only knew him as a ghost. His hands are still freezing.

"Your hands," Harry rasps. "They're cold."

"Sorry," Draco says weakly and pulls away but Harry shakily raises his own hands and holds Draco's palms to his cheeks. This is who has been looking after him- not a ghost at all and Harry doesn't understand in the slightest but he doesn't care. He doesn't care because he remembers how he felt when he could see and hear the ghost, and he _still_ feels it now he knows the ghost is Draco: Safe. Calm. Protected.

"Stay," Harry manages to say and Draco makes a noise that is somewhere between a sob and a laugh, a bit like a hiccup. Harry makes his body move and he leans forwards to press his mouth to Draco's.

Draco kisses him back, his lips gently moving against Harry's dry chapped ones, and Harry suddenly notices that Draco doesn't feel so cold anymore.

Harry gets better. It takes weeks but it doesn't matter. He can see Ron and Hermione again and he's so relieved that he has his friends back and that he can touch and see and hear the real world again that he cries. He sometimes misses the ghosts, wishes he could see them again, regrets not asking them the questions he wanted to when he had the chance. But then Draco appears and Harry smiles because even though he misses the others, he knows he got to keep his favourite ghost.

And when the sun is shining and Harry is well enough to go outside again, he does so with Ron and Hermione just behind him and Draco right at his side. Everything looks different, as if the white light that used to cover the world changed it a little, but he can't pinpoint what it is exactly that's not quite the same. He smiles, laughs and talks all day and forgets all about how it felt to be sick. And when Ron asks why Harry calls Draco his ghost sometimes, Harry just smiles and shrugs.


	8. H

H is for Hiccups

* * *

Someone asked what Harry was sick with in Ghosts- to be honest I have no idea. Think fever, hallucinations, almost at deaths-door kind of thing and that's what he had.

Oh and please give me some I's, but we may not get an update tomorrow as it will be my birthday and the lads are on the way to my house with a twister mat and a bottle of SoCo. See you on the other side.

* * *

_Hic_

Harry clapped his hand over his mouth but it was too late; the sound was unmistakable and oh so loud in the comparative quietness of the library. Opposite him, Ron sighed at the noise and at the other end of the table he saw Draco Malfoy's quill twitch violently in his hand; a sure sign that the blonde was now reaching breaking point with Harry and his hiccups. To give Draco due credit; he had lasted almost half an hour without saying a word. And in Harry's defence; he really couldn't help it.

_Hic_

"Mate, cant you get rid of them?" Ron finally asked tiredly, putting his quill down and rubbing his face.

"I don't know how," Harry said, heartily wishing he did. Having hiccups held a certain novelty to start with, but very quickly became annoying and uncomfortabe. "I just- _hic _-"

"For fucks sake…"

Harry heard the mutter come from Draco's end of the table and immediately shot a glare his way. "Hermione, try the charm again," he pleaded, turning back to his friends but Hermione shook her head.

"I don't dare do it twice in less than ten minutes," she whispered, her eyes still firmly fixed on her book. She alone seemed unperturbed by Harry's hiccups; although he would have bet a herd of rampaging hippogriffs could have stormed through the library and it wouldn't have made her abandon their study session.

_Hic_

"Right, that's _it_!"

Harry and the others all looked up, feeling somewhat alarmed as Draco stood up violently at the sound of Harry's loudest hiccup yet; pushing his chair back and then storming down to their end of the table. "Come on Potter, no-one can concentrate with you and your damn hiccups," he snapped, grabbing Harry's wrist and hauling him up out of his chair, nearly knocking his inkwell over in the process.

"Malfoy! What are you doing?" Harry hissed, trying to pull back against the blonde but Draco had a firm grip and wasn't letting go.

"I'm taking you to get rid of your hiccups!" Draco said. "Come _on!_"

Harry shot an apologetic and somewhat bewildered look back at Ron and Hermione who were staring at them, open mouthed, and he let Draco haul him out of the library and along the corridor.

_Hic_

Harry heard Draco growl in frustration as Harry hiccupped again, and then Harry frowned as they bypassed the staircase that would take them up to the hospital wing, instead turning left down a narrow corridor.

"I take it we're not going to the- _hic_ - hospital wing-"

The unfinished question was answered for him as Draco shoved him through a doorway which led to a small, deserted bathroom. Draco let go of Harry's wrist only to turn and lock door with several heavy duty locking charms that Harry knew he wouldn't be able to get back through even if he tried.

"You know Draco, dragging me out – _hic _- of the library like that wasn't what you would call subtle," Harry said, rubbing his wrist and frowning at Draco. "You know Hermione will work – _hic _- it out."

"I'm bored of subtle," Draco said, advancing on him, all at once looking distinctly predatory. "They were bound to work it out sooner or later. We did well to hide it for this long anyway-"

"Stop looking at me like that," Harry interrupted. "I thought you were supposed to be- _hic_ – getting rid of my hiccups," he added warily, unused to and disconcerted by the blonde acting in such an assertive manner.

"I am," Draco said when he was finally stood right in front of Harry who had retreated as far as he could go and now had his back pressed against the wall.

"Dare I ask- _hic- _how?_" _Harry asked and drew in a shocked breath as one of Draco's hands slid onto his waist. "What are you _doing?_"

"Well, now you ask…" Draco said in a innocent tone that was fooling no-one and Harry tensed up as he stepped up close, so close that his body was pressed completely against Harry's. "I think a good distraction will get rid of your hiccups…"

"But we're in a bathroom-!"

Harry's protest was cut off by Draco seizing his head in hands and planting an open mouthed kiss directly on Harry's, determinedly shoving his tongue into Harry's mouth and making him groan and grab hold of Draco's hips to stop himself falling. The motion was welcomed by Draco who immediately pushed his hips forwards into Harry's, grinding against him deliciously. Harry felt his own cock rapidly hardening under Draco's rough attentions, finding himself more than turned on by the blonde taking charge for once and handling him less than gently. Harry rutted back against him, moaning into Draco's mouth but couldn't enjoy the sensation for long- instead of continuing with the wonderful hard thrusting, Draco moved back and then grabbed Harry and span him around, pinning him face first against the wall and pressing his chest against Harry's back.

"Draco- what-?" Harry managed to gasp as one of Draco's hands snaked forwards around his hip and undid his trousers, his fingers rubbing tantalizingly against his erection.

"Well I said I'd _take_ you to get rid of your hiccups," Draco whispered slyly, kissing the back of Harry's neck and wrenching his trousers and boxers down in one rough movement. "You didn't think I was joking, did you?"


	9. I

I is for Ice-cubes

* * *

Draco fixed Ron with a searching look, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back on his chair. "_You_ do it."

"_You're_ the one that's mad at him," Ron replied, lifting his pint to his mouth to take a swallow and staring resolutely back. "And your drink is the one with the ice-cubes in."

"I'll probably get punched for it," Draco remarked, picking up the drink in discussion and downing the rest of it, wincing slightly, leaving the unmelted cubes of ice in the bottom of the glass.

"You can run faster than me, so he won't be able to punch you," Ron said.

"Can't," Draco replied stubbornly, glancing over to where Harry was stood with his back to them, chattering animatedly with Neville Longbottom. "Anyway, I'm the only Slytherin here in this crowd; I might get hexed for picking on The Chosen One."

Ron rolled his eyes. "That excuse won't work anymore, Malfoy. You've been with Harry…how long now? Three years? No-one thinks you're out to get him anymore." He paused, seeing Draco wasn't relenting and then sighed. He held a finger up in a gesture to wait and then shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling out a Galleon and sliding it across the table.

"I don't need money-" Draco began archly.

"I know you don't," Ron said with a sly grin. "But it's the principle. I bet you won't dare do it."

Draco glared at him, glanced at the Galleon, to his glass of ice-cubes and then back to Ron. "Fine. But when Granger starts shouting, we are telling her that this was _your_ idea."

* * *

"Thanks for coming up today, anyway," Neville said to Harry, clapping him on his shoulder.

"Wouldn't have missed it," Harry said genuinely, smiling back at his friend. "We don't get everyone together often enough these days."

"Oh and whose fault is that?" Neville laughed. "You and Malfoy have only just settled back in the country!"

"We weren't gone that long," Harry protested. "And _you _were always busy when we came back-"

"You only came back for like a week at a time and then you were gone again-" Neville broke off, his gaze fixing over Harry's shoulder at something, but before Harry could turn to see what Neville was looking at, he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt and his whole body went into shock as someone tipped what felt like a bucketful of ice down the back of his T-shirt.

"_FUCK!_"

Harry dropped his own drink, the glass smashing on the floor as he whipped around with a rather undignified yelp, trying valiantly to ignore the shrieks of laughter and catcalls as he hopped on the spot, gasping at the cold. All he managed to do was make the ice-cubes slip even further down his back so he grabbed his shirt and wrenched it off over his head to dislodge the ice. The laughter increased tenfold and Harry's eyes sought out the culprit who he found stood five feet away and grinning mischievously at him.

"You bastard!" Harry shouted, blushing furiously as he held his shirt over his chest to cover himself a little, well aware that everyone was still laughing, and in the case of Lavender Brown, eyeing him with undisguised interest. "Draco, get back here!"

He advanced on Draco who was backing up away from him, empty glass in hand and heading for the exit. He stopped by the table he and Ron had been previously sat at and held his hand out, not breaking his gaze from Harry.

"That-" he said as Ron pressed a Galleon into his palm with a grin. "-was payback for the badminton racket." Draco said and then dived out of the doorway with Harry hot on his heels.


	10. J

J is for Jam

* * *

"Oh for gods sake- I'll talk to you later!" Harry exasperatedly mouthed across the great Hall at Ginny who was still excitedly trying to beckon him over to her table. She was sat on the table that had been designated for the seventh years and he on the one for the eighth years, and as they were seprated by the two tables belonging to the second and fourth years he couldn't hear a word she was trying to say to him.

"What?" she mouthed back, looking confused and Harry gave up, waving her away with his hand as Ron and Hermione walked up hand in hand.

"What the hell happened to the tables?" Ron asked, glancing down the hall in bewilderment. It was so much louder than normal due to the rearrangement of the tables; people chatting excitedly and calling across the tables to their house-mates along with bursts of magic flaring up every now and again.

"Inter-house co-operation week," Hermione said instantly over the noise. "We're sitting in year groups instead to mix up the houses. Who're you shouting at?" she asked Harry who leant down to pick up his strawberry jam smothered toast but didn't sit down.

"Ginny-" Harry said distractedly, hearing a shout of his name again. "I'll talk to you later!" he mouthed again and Ginny swore at him across the Hall before turning and speaking to someone in her year group that was sat at her table. "She's being a pain, she knows I can't hear her right now-"

"She wants to talk about the _thing_?" Ron asked surreptitiously and Harry rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his toast.

"Yes, she got it out of me last night and now won't shut up about it-"

"What _thing_?" Hermione asked at once, looking from Ron to Harry.

"I'll tell you in a moment-"

"Harry!"

"I will, I promise, just not now-"

"Potter are you going to sit down?" came a mild voice from behind him. "I keep thinking I'm about to be trodden on."

Harry turned awkwardly, his movement impeded by the fact he was still stood with a leg either side of the bench. Sitting behind him with a mug of coffee in his hand was Draco Malfoy, who was looking up at him calmly, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Sorry, Malfoy," Harry said quickly. "Yeah just give me a-"

"HARRY!"

"Oh for fucks-" Harry said, well and truly exasperated. "I'LL TALK TO YOU-"

He span around to bellow back at Ginny and lost his balance, bending back and flailing wildly, one foot caught up under the bench and the other in the strap of his bag. Ron made an alarmed sound and grabbed for Harry's wrists, successfully keeping him upright but knocking the toast out of Harry's hand; the jam laden toast fell to the floor, but not without first hitting Draco smack on the side of his face midway through its downwards journey.

"Holy fuck," Ron said as he stared at Draco who was sat perfectly still, frozen in place with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in shock; bright red jam now covering the side of his face and the shoulder of his school shirt.

"Oh, _shit,_" Harry said, as Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself laughing. Across the other side of the table Seamus Finnegan and Blaise Zabini were howling with laughter and Ernie MacMillan was trying not to join in. Next to Draco, Pansy Parkinson and Lavender Brown were giggling madly, clutching at each other for support.

"Potter-" Draco began, still not moving and looking horrified. "You seem to have dropped your toast."

Harry glanced at Ron who was starting to laugh and then hastily let go of him, untangling his feet and dropping down onto the bench to face Draco, trying to quell the laughter that was welling inside of him too.

"Get. It. Off. Now." Draco said shortly and Harry reached out to wipe the jam off of his face.

"Not with your hand!" Draco said, trying to duck away and Seamus leant forwards over the table, tears of mirth running down his face, Zabini leaning on the Irishmans back and laughing soudlessly. Hermione sat next to Seamus opposite Harry and Ron sat next to her, both grinning and watching Harry trying to hold Draco still in order to get the jam off.

"Not with my hand?" Harry asked, holding both of Draco's wrists in one of his hands and still reaching towards Draco with the other.

"No!" Draco replied. "Blaise, stop laughing, you _dick!_"

"I'm sorry-" Blaise sobered up for half a second and then caught sight of Draco's jam smeared face and collapsed into laughter once more.

"POTTER! Get it _off!_"

"Let me-" Harry tried to reach out again but Draco wasn't having any of it, holding his hands away from his face.

"No-"

"Just sit-"

"Stop laughing! You're all fucking- augh!"

Draco was stunned into silence and his eyes went if even possible even wider as without warning, Harry seized his head in his hands and promptly licked the jam off of the side of his face. The laughter around the table abruptly died and everyone stared delightedly at Harry who ignored them, instead looking apologetically and somewhat sheepishly at Draco.

"Gone," he said with a small smile.

"You just licked me," Draco said faintly, his eyes locked on Harry's.

"Yeah…" Harry said, now blushing furiously. "You know. Gryffindor. Act first, think later- mmf!"

Harry's words were cut off as Draco summoned his own inner Gryffindor and promptly grabbed Harry's head in his hands, kissing him square on the mouth. Harry's hands flailed in midair for a moment and then he seemed to collect himself and responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around Draco and pulling him up to him with enough enthusiasm to lift Draco off of the bench as they kissed.

"Oh yeah, Hermione," Ron said as if he'd just rememered something, clicking his fingers and making Hermione turn to look at him, completely gobsmacked. "That thing?" He sighed affectedly and lowered his voice to whisper conspiringly. "Apparently…Harry fancies Malfoy."


	11. K

K is for Kiss

* * *

Some L inspiration if you would? And this one is a different format, shouldn't be too hard to follow I hope- normal type is present and the italics are a flashback.

* * *

"Draco, you're fidgeting."

He ignored Pansy's whisper even though he knew she was right. He should have been horrified really, that he was in danger of losing his smooth Malfoy façade, and in the middle of a Ministry formal to boot, but he was feeling too restless to even try to contain his nerves.

"It's not like you've not been to one of these when he's been here before," she added gently as they handed their coats over to the attendant and started to make their way up to the room where the formal would be held, their progress impeded by the crowds of people around them.

"We had a fight," Draco said tersely.

"You two are always fighting," Pansy said dismissively and Draco shot her a glare.

"This was…different," he told her quietly, offering her his arm as they ascended the main staircase. "He flipped out and stormed out, that was last friday...and I've not spoken to him since," he admitted.

Pansy's arm tightened slightly on his. "You mean he's not been back home? Draco why didn't you say? We could have missed this if you don't want to see him."

* * *

"_So you'll come to the Ministry formal with me, right?" Harry asked, leaning over the back of the sofa which Draco was lounging on._

_Draco lowered his book to stare flatly back at Harry. "No."_

"_What?" Harry sounded genuinely surprised. "Why not?"_

"_We've been through this," Draco said tiredly. "You, me, public, bad idea."_

"_I'm pretty sure most people have figured it out anyway," Harry said with a frown, climbing over the back of the sofa to sit down, pulling Draco's legs over his. _

_Draco shook his head again. "Yeah, b__ut going to the Summer Ball hand in hand is something else entirely…just no."_

_

* * *

_

Draco swallowed thickly. "I thought about staying home, but I-" he broke off, not wanting to admit out loud that he wanted to see Harry again, so desperately. They reached the room and Draco found his heart was hammering against his ribs at the thought of being able to finally get his wish and see Harry again; his Harry who he hadn't seen or heard from in eight days since he stormed out.

"Why did you fight?" Pansy asked as they took glasses of champagne from one of the floating trays that drifted lazily around the room.

"He wanted me to come with him to this," Draco said with a shrug. "I told him I wasn't ready."

"How long is it going to take you?" Pansy asked him suddenly and rather too sternly for Draco's liking. "It's been-"

"I know, but people have only just stopped giving me trouble as it fucking is," Draco snapped, and had to calm himself down as a witch shot him an alarmed look over her shoulder at his outburst. "Come on Pansy, move."

* * *

"_Why not?" Harry snapped suddenly and Draco's eyebrows shot up at the change in tone. "Your reasons are always rubbish. I bet you just don't want to risk people bad mouthing you again-"_

_Draco found his tone raising to meet Harry's. "Yeah, and can you blame me?"_

"_You're a coward," Harry spat, pushing Draco's legs off of his and standing up. _

"_No I'm-"_

"_Yes you fucking are!" Harry shouted over him. "You wouldn't even kiss me at Ron and Hermione's and they _know_ about this!"_

_Draco gaped at him. "Is that what this is about? I didn't want to get off with you in front of everyone and now-"_

"_It wasn't getting off, it was going to be one fucking kiss, just like any other couple-"_

"_Well then why are you getting so fucking bothered about it, if it was just one kiss?"_

"_Because it's like you're ashamed of me-"_

"_Harry, don't be a dick-"_

"_Fuck off, Draco."_

"_You fuck off."_

_

* * *

_

"What are you actually scared of?" she whispered to him as they edged through the crowded room. "Most people have heard the rumours, all you'd be doing is confirming it-"

"I don't want to," Draco ground out through gritted teeth.

"Don't you love him?" she demanded.

"Of course I love him!"

The words hung in the air between them. Pansy's expression softened and Draco was horrified to feel a lump forming in his throat. He wished the ground would just open up and swallow him and let him out only when this was all over.

"You know what to do then," she said softly, and she raised her eyes and nodded her head towards something over Draco's shoulder.

Draco's eyes widened and he turned on the spot to see what Pansy was looking at; his stomach and heart clenched painfully as he saw what he'd been dreading; Harry on the other side of the room, clearly visible through a gap in the crowd and looking at Draco with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Go," Pansy whispered, nudging him with her elbow.

"Can't," Draco shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Harry. He just couldn't, he couldn't risk it-

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!" Pansy hissed and he winced. "That man loves you, now go show him you love him back, you great idiot."

* * *

_Harry got as far as the doorway before whipping around to glare at Draco, his trembling hands balled into fists. "I can't believe you won't-"_

"_I will, just not yet! Why won't you believe me!" Draco shouted back, scrambling up onto his knees and leaning on the back of the sofa. "Why is it so important for you to have this out in public?"_

"_Get fucked," Harry said venomously, reaching over and grabbing his coat from the by door. "You know why, I've told you a thousand times."_

"_Where the fuck are you going?" Draco demanded._

"_Away from you!" Harry bellowed, storming out and slamming the door with wall shaking force, leaving Draco alone in the flat._

* * *

Draco nodded dumbly and pressed his empty glass into Pansy's hand, ignoring her delighted smile as he broke through the fear and made his feet move towards Harry. He didn't think; there was no time to think, only the time to watch how Harry's eyes widened in surprise as Draco came closer, and how Weasley immediately stepped back as Draco got close enough to speak to Harry. People were watching him. Oh fuck. This was it, no backing out now.

"Draco," Harry said uncertainly, clearly thrown off balance by Draco's proximity.

"I just wanted to ask you something," Draco said, appalled at how shaky his voice was.

"Oh." Harry replied, looking downcast and Draco hastened to speak again.

"I was wondering if I could have that kiss now," he blurted and would have laughed at how comically Harry's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, staring at Draco like he was a ghost, if only Draco wasn't so terrified of what was going to happen. This was out of his control, this was-

Harry held out a hand and Draco reached immediately for it, relief coursing through him at the simple touch and he knew he had to do this, for Harry, for them.

He leant forwards and gently pressed his lips to Harry's, just one chaste kiss that made Harry's breath hitch in his throat and his hand clasp Draco's tightly. Draco pulled away gently, resting his cheek on Harry's for a brief moment, ignoring the frantic whispers that had broke out around them and feeling like he'd just stepped off a cliff but it was OK because Harry was still there and of course he was going to catch him, how the hell had Draco doubted that before?

"Thank you," Harry whispered and Draco smiled weakly.

"No need to thank me. I mean, it was only a kiss."


	12. L

L is for love.

* * *

"I don't _know_ if he does," Harry said heavily, staring into the murky depths of his drink. "Sometimes I'm sure but then other times, it's all so uncertain."

"Well…" Hermione said hesitantly. "Have you _asked_ him?"

Harry looked up from his mug of tea with an incredulous look on his face. "Oh yeah, because _that_ would go down well. 'Hey, Draco, just wondering if you loved me yet? Nope? That's fine, I'll ask again next year.'"

Hermione shot him a reproachful look. "Maybe you just need to go for it."

Harry shook his head, reaching for another biscuit, even though he didn't really want one. He was fed up, and feeling pathetic that this was the third time in a week that he and Hermione had ended up sat at his kitchen table with him whining about Draco. "He'd feel cornered. He hates me pressuring him, so I try not to-"

"You have a right to know whether he loves you or not, especially now you're living together. This has to be going somewhere for the both of you." Hermione said gently. "You love him, right?"

"Well…" Harry said uncertainly. "I…yes, but you may have noticed but I've not exactly had the best track record with things like this. I probably wouldn't know love if it came and slapped me in the face."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Hermione said sternly, leaning back into her chair and picking up her coffee, glancing at the clock. "What time is he getting back anyway?"

"When he wants," Harry said tiredly, placing his elbows on the table and burying his face in his hands.

Hermione sighed. "I'll rephrase. What time does he finish work?"

"About an hour ago. Depends how harsh the coach was on them today, apparently their new beater is useless," Harry sighed, standing up and draining his mug of lukewarm tea. "I'm sorry Hermione, I'll stop complaining-"

"You shush," she said, standing up beside him. "I know this is hard…"

She trailed off as the sound of door opening reached their ears; they both span around to see the door that led through to the rest of the house ajar, and then Draco stepped out into the kitchen, his eyes on Harry.

"Draco! What the fuck?" Harry exclaimed. "How long have you been here?" he demanded, his tone quickly turning accusatory.

"Since lunchtime," the blonde shrugged. "Bludger accident. We all got sent home."

"And you didn't say anything- wait, have you been- how much did you hear?" Harry asked, his face flushing as he recalled his and Hermione's conversation and realised Draco would more than likely have been eavesdropping, _especially_ if they were talking about him.

Draco shrugged evasively and walked up to Harry, who was holding his breath, waiting for Draco to start a tirade about pressure and pointless words and trusting feelings and waiting for the proper time and all that rubbish.

Hermione bit her lip, hovering as Draco stepped up close to Harry, and then before anyone could say anything-

_SMACK_

Harry reeled backwards, clutching his cheek and gaping at Draco.

"_Draco!_" Hermione shrieked, sounded scandalised.

"What the hell?" Harry shouted, astounded. He hadn't expected Draco's reaction to the conversation about the dreaded L-word to be _that_ bad.

"Now you know," Draco said quietly and Harry frowned angrily at him, still holding his cheek. Draco looked down at the floor, scuffing his toe and suddenly looking awkward and a little embarrassed.

"Well you said you wouldn't know…if it came up and slapped you in the face…"

Harry's expression went from angry to puzzled to shocked to delighted in five seconds flat and he suddenly laughed, lunging at Draco and grabbing him in a hug, squeezing him tightly as Draco buried his face in Harry's shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck.

Hermione stood gaping at them for a moment and then shook her head at the pair, somewhat exasperated. "You know what," she began sternly, but as she watched Draco raise his head and press a small kiss to the side of Harry's face she gave up. Smiling ruefully, she grabbed her coat and head towards the door. "I can handle Ron, live through a war and a manage a job in the department of mysteries but I will _never_ understand you two, not ever."


	13. M

M is for money

* * *

N is for need. I need some good N's.

* * *

"Did you get them?"

Blaise Zabini had barely shut the door to Harry and Draco's flat when he was accosted by a shout coming from the living room. He ignored it and took his time shrugging off of his coat and carefully hanging it up before flicking lesuirely through his briefcase to find the two pieces of parchment in question. Only at an iriate shout of his name did he deign to move and saunter through to where they were sat.

"Are you two sure this is wise?" he asked with a sigh, standing in front of the sofa and looking from Draco to Harry who were sat at either end, eyes fixed on the pieces of parchment held in Blaise's hands, one in his left and one in his right.

"Yes," Draco said instantly.

"Definitely," Harry nodded.

Blaise asked, exasperated. The parchment in his hands were official Gringott's documents and contained summaries of the contents of both the Malfoy and the Potter vaults, down to the very last knut.

At first, when he found out that they wanted them just because they were arguing about who had more money, he been adamant not to let them have them, wanting nothing to do with their spat. He had said no for a whole three hours, holding out even when Draco had forcibly reminded him that as their Gringott's Personal Liaison Agent he had to do what they asked concerning their vaults. Draco had then threatened to come down to Gringott's and throw a full scale tantrum, and at that point Blaise had snapped and given in.

"You two have never cared about how much money you've got before, why start now?" he asked.

"Because Draco thinks he's got more money than me and reckons that gives him the right to boss me about," Harry said. "Now give-"

"No- shut up Harry- it's because Potter thinks he's got more money than me which means he's constantly paying for everything and that makes me feel like a pansy so stop with the moral blah blah and give me the paper," Draco insisted.

"I _have _got more money than you," Potter replied.

"I'm still a Malfoy even if I did marry you," Draco snapped back. "And that means-"

"Yeah yeah, inheritance," Harry rolled his eyes. "I've got plenty of that too, which doesn't really count for anything anymore."

"Yeah it does! Just because you get paid more than me-"

"Of course, catching criminals deserves more money than catching snitches-"

"ENOUGH!"

Harry and Draco stopped their bickering and looked at Blaise who was glaring at the both of them. He had truly had enough of this argument which rolled around almost annually and always ended up the same way: Harry sleeping on Weasley's sofa for a week and Draco bitching non-stop to Blaise about it. It had never escalated this far though and it was high time someone did something about it and took the issue out of Harry and Draco's hands so they would finally shut the hell up.

"You two are ridiculous. Money is almost never an issue for you two and I can't believe you've made it one, just for the sake of arguing. Now take the damn papers and shut up," he said, holding the two sheets out.

They lunged forwards at the same time, snatching the sheets from Blaise, their eyes furiously scanning the sheets.

"Oh hell yes!" Draco whooped. "I'd like to see you beat this, Potter!"

"Oh I'm sure I could," Harry said, a wide and somewhat smug grin breaking over his face.

"No chance," Draco snorted.

"Go on then, how much is in yours?" Harry demanded, reaching for the paper which Draco whisked out of his reach, batting his hand away. "Draco! Swap!" Harry insisted and Draco relented, holding out the sheet and reaching for Harry's.

Blaise watched and waited, and sure enough their expressions went from excited and hungry to rather bewildered in less than a minute.

"Hang on…" Harry said slowly. "Blaise, are you sure you've got this right?"

"Don't insult me," Blaise said with a twinkle in his eye. "I've worked at Gringott's for six years, I don't do mistakes."

"But-" Draco said, looking perplexed and scooting across the sofa to sit next to harry, looking at both sheets of parchment side by side. "They're the same amount."

He and Harry glanced at each other and then at Blaise, wearing identical confused frowns.

"Well, if you two had stopped being so mercenary and bothered to read the _whole_ of the summary instead of jumping straight to the Galleons…" Blaise said airily.

"Account summary obtained by Zabini, B on request of Malfoy, D and Potter, H," Harry read aloud, Draco leaning in to close to his side to look. "Account summary of vault 865, also known as the Potter-Malfoy vault…_what?"_

"Oh would you look at the time, I really must be going," Blaise said, smartly stepping towards the door. "Well it was nice seeing you both-"

"You combined our accounts?" Draco shouted after him. "How the hell did you have the authority to do that?"

"Since you signed that piece of paper naming me as your Personal Liaison Agent!" Blaise shouted back with a laugh, running towards the door before Draco or Harry could aim a hex at him. "Let's see you finish this argument now!"


	14. N

N is for Nargles

* * *

O! I've got a P and a Q already done and I personally think they're rather amusing, but I'm stuck on O.

AND- would anyone who's been following consider reading through the next chapter of Imperio for me before it goes up to check it makes sense? I'm pretty sure it does but hangovers do not work well with reading things through and I want it to be spot on for you guys.

* * *

"Yes, and my research is leading me to believe that Nargles not only make your brain fuzzy, but can also affect your behaviour," Luna said happily from next to Harry. "Your brain gets so fuzzed up that you lose all your inhibitions and that can really be quite dangerous. Or beneficial I suppose, depends which inhibitions you're talking about…"

Across from her, Ginny was listening with interest, slowly munching on her jam and toast. Ron was looking unmistakably sceptical and frowning openly at Luna. Hermione was paying no attention whatsoever, instead reading a book entitled_ Wicked_ _Wandwork- 101 quickfire spells_.

"So…" Ron said slowly. "You're telling me, these Margles-"

"Nargles."

"Whatever. The Nargles can affect how you behave?" Ron asked. Next to him, Harry bit back a grin, busying himself with his scrambled eggs.

"Yes," Luna said earnestly. "I've found that if you become too Nargle infested, you can exhibit uninhibited behaviour-"

"What do you mean uninhibited behaviour?" Ginny asked, cutting across before Ron could say anything insensitive or rude, which judging by the look on his face, he was about to.

"Well you won't just act strangely," Luna said and Ron choked on his juice. "You'll lose your sense of restraint, and find you'll do things you've always wanted to but were too scared, or too nervous to, and forget about the consequences. A bit reckless, really-"

"Drunk on Nargles," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Well that's a load of-"

"-Very interesting theory," Harry hastily finished for Ron, elbowing him hard. "Right, I'd love to hear more, Luna, but I've got to go."

"Really? You in particular should stay, you seem to be the one that gets the most affected by Nargles-" Luna said, looking genuinely concerned. "You always have, I wouldn't be surprised if your behaviour starts-"

"I'm fine," Harry insisted, standing up. "And if I display any…er, _uninhibited behaviour_, I'm sure Ron will let me know and keep me out of trouble."

"Ok then," Luna said, sounding resigned. "You can just read all about it in the next Quibbler. You really should, you know."

"Can't wait," Harry muttered under his breath, still trying not to grin as he slipped out of the Hall. He really would have stayed to listen, but he had someone to meet…

* * *

"Oh God, yes," Harry muttered feverishly as he fumbled desperately with the buttons of Draco's shirt as Draco trailed hot open mouthed kisses down the side of Harry's neck, clutching at Harry's hips and grinding unashamedly against him.

"Took your time in getting here," Draco panted, biting down on Harry's collarbone. "Oh, _fuck-_"

"Shut up, I was at breakfast-" Harry gasped, catching Draco's mouth in a heated kiss and pushing him back up against the stone wall of the alcove they were currently hidden in, concealed from the adjacent fourth floor corridor by a thick tapestry that was emblazoned with a rather grumpy looking dragon. They normally attempted to keep such activities to the room of requirement but all too often found they just couldn't wait for the whole of the journey up to the seventh floor.

Draco let out an appreciative moan at Harry's rough handling, biting hard on Harry's lip and frantically tugging Harry's shirt free of his trousers-

There was a swooshing sound and they both froze as the tapestry was suddenly wrenched to the side, filling the alcove with light. Their exposure was swiftly followed by a shriek and several loud curse words; Draco hauled Harry in front of him, hiding his face in his shoulder and uttering some choice four letter words that normally never failed to make Harry wince. On the other side, Hermione shrieked, "_Harry!_", sounding completely scandalised and Ron staggered backwards at same time as trying to cover his eyes and as a result tripped backwards, landing on his arse in the corridor. Ginny was cackling delightedly, clutching her sides and Luna was standing there with her hands on her hips, looking exasperated.

"I _told_ you, Harry!" she said sternly. "This is exactly the type of behaviour I was talking about! Nargle infestations are _not_ to be taken lightly!"


	15. O

O is for Obliviate

* * *

I went emo again, sorry. Words in the middle are from Christina Rosetti not from me, and as such belong to her.

So, what do you think? Better to forget or remember?

* * *

Draco stares at Harry who is looking down at the floor, scuffing his toe dejectedly on the worn carpet of their usual room in the Dragon and Phoenix Inn. They always end up back here, sneaking up to the room with the crooked number 2 on the door and falling into each others arms, easily forgetting about the rest of the world. But today, the rest of the world isn't waiting patiently outside for them to get dressed and go back to their lives; it has crashed through the door to join them and is making Draco want to scream.

"What do you _mean _you're still going to marry her?"

Harry doesn't look up. He shoves his hands in his pockets instead and as a result misses how Draco's face has drained of the little colour it had, and how his hands have balled into fists and are trembling violently. This happens all too often; Harry looking away and missing all the signs that would tell him what Draco is afraid to say out loud.

"I can't back out-" Harry says miserably.

"You can!" Draco shouts. "You said you would-"

"But I also said to Ginny that I would marry her," Harry tries to explain. "I love her, Draco-"

"No you don't, you said she's like your sister-" Draco snaps before taking a deep breath. When he speaks again his voice is cold and calm, the tone immediately setting off alarm bells in Harry's mind. "So. If you _love_ her, that means you don't love me."

"You _know_ I do-" Harry says and the anguish in his tone is reflected in those green eyes as he finally looks up. Draco holds his gaze and Harry stares back, his expression desperate. The silence stretches out between them, made longer and louder by the burden of Harry's decision.

"Fine," Draco snaps suddenly and Harry wishes he wouldn't; he doesn't want to go back to Ginny but the whole world is expecting him to. He can't forfeit his family, his friends, just to risk it all on something that might never work.

"Draco, you know I wish it was different-"

"Shut, UP!" Draco shouts, taking a step towards Harry, his eyes glittering with pent up fury and tears. He grabs his wand out of his pocket and thrusts it towards Harry. "Take it," he snaps. Harry looks bewildered now but does as he asks, taking the wand carefully out of Draco's hand.

"Now, point it at me and Obliviate every part of my mind that remembers _this_ between me and you," Draco whispers. "If you're leaving for her, I don't want to remember _any_ of this-"

"No!" Harry gasps, stepping back. "No way! I'm _not_ going to Obliviate you-"

"Do it!" Draco yells and Harry swears he can see Draco breaking apart right in front of his very eyes, as hot and angry tears course tracks down his pale skin. "I can't stand by and watch you marry her when you should be with me, when I know you love me and you're throwing it away because you're too scared-"

"What, you'd rather not remember me at all?" Harry shouts back. "You'd rather just get rid of everything we've got-"

"YES!" Draco bellows and then tries to calm himself down. He stops shouting at any rate. "I can't- I just can't. You owe me this much, Potter."

"Don't call me that," Harry whispers. "Please, don't ask me to do this."

Draco doesn't feel like his heart is breaking; he feels like it has upped and left his body altogether. The emptiness is making him feel sick as he think about what it will be like to lose Harry to _her, _what it would be like to see them together and remember everything he no longer has_-_

"Harry please," he whispers, brushing away the tears with the back of his hand. "If this is over, it's _over_. You can't have it both ways, and I can't have half of you."

"Why? Why don't you want to remember me?" Harry asks, feeling tears of his own threatening him.

"Because it hurts, it'll kill me to see- and you don't fucking understand-" Draco is quickly losing control again and Harry can't bear to see him like this. He knows that Draco would be pointing his wand at Harry if he hadn't already given it to him. "For fucks sake, just DO IT!"

"_No!_"

Draco steps up close to Harry and grabs his wrist, yanking it upwards so the wand is pointing straight between his eyes. "I hate you," Draco spits, and his shoulders are shaking as he breaks down in sobs. "I _hate _you."

Harry's heart breaks. He now knows he only has one choice. He meets Draco's eyes and quietly whispers "_obliviate._"

* * *

_...Better by far you should forget and smile _  
_Than that you should remember and be sad..._

* * *

Draco opens his eyes groggily, wondering where he is. He knows he's on a bed and he can tell it's not his. He tries to sit up but a quiet voice stops him.

"Just lie still. You passed out."

He looks over and sees Harry perched quietly on the end of the bed, and he realises with relief that they're in their usual room in the Dragon and Phoenix. He knows he was meant to be meeting Harry here today to talk about something, but can't remember anything past opening the door and sitting on the edge of the bed. His hazy recollections are probably due to his fainting; something that happens more regularly than he cares to admit. A combination of neither eating nor sleeping properly and refusing to take care of himself.

He sits up anyway, ignoring Harry's slightly worried and exasperated expression at his refusal to remain lying down. "What happened? Why did I pass out?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"I don't know," Harry says quietly, with a small sad smile. "Not eating enough, knowing you."

"When did you get here?" Draco asks and feels immense gratitude for the other mans presence as Harry clambers onto the bed to come and sit beside him, wrapping an arm around Draco's shoulders and gently kissing his temple.

"Not long after you," Harry says into his hair. His eyes are shut as he nuzzles against Draco, breathing in and out deeply.

"So...you wanted to talk?" Draco asks nervously after a while, and feels Harry tense next to him. He fights down waves of panic; he knows this is about the Weasley girl that Harry is meant to be engaged to- the girl who Harry doesn't really love, not like he loves Draco, anyway-

"Yeah," Harry says and he carefully lifts Draco's chin up and studies him for a moment before leaning in to kiss him, his lips capturing Draco's for a long moment and making Draco's breath hitch in his chest. Harry pulls back to whisper. "It's you. I want you. I'll call it all off, the engagement and everything. I'll go and do it right now if you come with me."

Draco freezes, staring at him with wide eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. This can't be- Draco never gets this lucky, especially not concerning Harry. "Really?" he whispers and Harry nods, kissing him again. Draco pulls away, hardly daring to believe it. "Why- but what made you suddenly decide? Yesterday you-"

"Shush," Harry says, placing his hand on Draco's chest, feeling the blondes rapid heartbeat and shallow breathing and wanting to calm him. "I had a moment…I felt what it would be like to lose you," he says softly. "I can't bear the thought of having half of you, or just memories. I'd never be right again."

Sitting there with Draco's face so close to his, Harry has to fight back tears as he remembers how close he came to losing him. He never once thought it would be that bad, never imagined the blonde would be so heartbroken at the prospect of losing Harry that he would break down and beg to be Obliviated. So heartbroken he couldn't even contemplate life without Harry by his side. Harry can imagine it now: the thought of Draco disappearing from his life without a trace, or the thought of Draco hating him...both make him want to _die_. Harry silently vows never to tell Draco about the first time they had this conversation and thanks his lucky stars that he got the chance to rewrite it.

"Harry, I love you," Draco says fiercely and Harry pulls Draco roughly to him, hugging him tightly.

"I know. _God,_ I know."


	16. P

P is for Pregnancy

* * *

Note 1: Apologies to everyone who was traumatised by O. I was myself when I read it back. This should cheer you all up I hope!

Note 2: I came so unbelievably close to deleting my profile off of this site last night and refusing to carry on with writing. Some *insert favourite four letter words here* keeps sending me messages saying things like REVIEW THIS STORY, GO READ THIS STORY, GO REVIEW WORK BY BLAH, YOU CAN BETA THIS, WRITE A GIFT FIC FOR BLAH, RESPOND BY THIS DATE. No pleases or thank you's in sight, or any freaking consideration to my own workload. ARGH. I don't know this person at all and am getting infuriated with how bloody rude they are being.

Of course I will happily beta and do requests, but I won't respond to *more four letter words* who address me like that. I mean, even in virtual compuer land it's not hard to be friendly and polite, right?

ANYWAY- To everyone else who _is_ lovely and polite and kept me from smashing my laptop: I heart you guys, like a whole lot. High five for manners.

* * *

"I'm going to be sick," Draco said mournfully, leaning forwards across the table and resting his forehead on it, wrapping his arms around himself and rocking back and forth slightly.

Harry shot him an amused look and obligingly reached out from where he was sat next to him, rubbing his back in small circles. Draco relaxed for a moment but then almost immediately tensed again, his whole body rigid. Harry waited a beat and then sure enough, Draco sat bolt upright and clapped a hand over his mouth with his eyes as wide as saucers, before scrambling off of his chair and diving out of the kitchen.

"Is he OK?" Hermione asked with a giggle and Harry nodded, reaching for a biscuit.

"Yeah he'll be fine," Harry said, laughing. "It'll all be over soon and then we'll just have to put up with the baby vomiting and not Draco."

"Good luck with that," Ron said, sipping his coffee. "Rose was a proper sick machine when she first arrived wasn't she 'Mione? It was all day, _every_ day. Never used _scourgify_ so much in my life."

"We'll be fine," Harry said again. "After all this time waiting, it's nearly here...I'm really looking forwards to it, you know?" he said with a smile.

"I bet Draco isn't as much anymore," Ron grinned and Harry laughed.

"Well he was, until the being sick started…" Harry trailed off as Draco moped back into the kitchen, slumping down into his chair looking rather sorry for himself.

"Been sick?" Harry asked and Draco shook his head, holding his hands to his stomach before leaning back over the table, his forehead hitting the wood with a thunk.

"How long has this been going on?" Hermione asked.

"Couple of weeks, since Luna got here," Harry said, a grin breaking out again.

"Well that's interesting," Hermione said, hiding a grin of her own.

"It's _not_ interesting at all and will you stop talking about me like I'm not here because I can hear every word you're saying and it's not like my ears have joined the rest of my body in not working properly anymore-" Draco said, his voice muffled but clearly growing a little hysterical.

"Sorry, sorry," Harry said hastily, shooting Hermione a reproachful look as she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.

"So, this is definitely…morning sickness?" Ron asked cautiously.

Harry nodded, still rubbing Draco's back. "Pretty much. We were hoping this wouldn't happen-"

"It's awful," Draco said, sitting up slightly, resting his elbows on the table and resting his face in his hands. "Fucking back pain and being sick and cravings for disgusting Muggle food and mood swings-"

"You? Mood swings?" Ron asked innocently and Draco shot him a dirty look.

"Shut _up_, Weasley."

"Only a few weeks more," Harry said hastily and Draco groaned, shaking his head.

"I think you're coping admirably, Draco," Luna chipped in from where she was sat at the other end of the table, happily munching her way through her eleventh biscuit, leaning back with a hand resting on her swollen belly which she could barely get behind the kitchen table anymore. "It's much nicer for me to be sharing this experience, you know."

"Then why can't _Harry_ be the one with the stupid sympathetic pregnancy?" Draco whined, dropping his face back onto his arms.

"Well this does belong to you," Luna pointed to her belly. "I guess it can tell."

"Did you hear that? _It can tell._ Urgh. This better be worth it," Draco said and Harry grinned, leaning over to press a kiss to his back, just in-between his shoulder blades.

"It will be," Harry said softly.

"You would say that," Draco sighed back. "You're not the one with swollen ankles."


	17. Q

Q is for Qwerty keyboard

* * *

Wow, you guys are brilliant :) Apologies for the rage and thank you for the support- I offer Draco and wine as a token of my appreciation.

I've already done S, T, V and X but the others are still negotiable :)

* * *

"Harry? Is that you?"

Harry rolled his eyes as he kicked the front door shut behind him, dropping his bag of Quidditch gear on the floor by the coat rack. "Who else is it going to be?" he called back, kicking his shoes off and leaving them strewn haphazardly on the mat.

"Shut up," was the shouted reply.

Harry chuckled softly and walked to the kitchen, heaving open the fridge and grabbing a cold bottle of water. "You want a drink?" he shouted.

"No, I've got wine!"

Harry took a deep gulp of water and then lowered the bottle, checking his watch, an eyebrow raised. Half past four. Not too bad, but still a worrying time for Draco to have started on the wine, especially when he was in the flat by himself and had been all day. Again. Harry often liked to joke that had he known beforehand how their work schedules would compare, he would have ditched the broom and gone for curse-breaking alongside Draco.

Draco's voice drifted through from the living room again. "Good day?"

"Yeah, knackering though," Harry said, walking through to find Draco. "The new bludgers are mean bastards, was a bit of a shock after using the old slow ones for so long. I nearly got knocked off, Jones took one-" he stepped through the doorway to the lounge and paused mid sentence in the doorway, frowning. "Is that my computer?"

Draco looked up from where he was sat on the sofa facing towards Harry; on the coffee table in front of him was Harry's laptop and an ominously empty bottle of wine.

"Yes it is," Draco said, pressing a key with a flourish which made an ominous clicking sound, raising the half full glass of wine that was held in his other hand to his lips and taking a mouthful.

On principle Draco still hated Muggle technology and Harry was somewhat worried about the safety of his computer as he knew full well that Draco had no idea how to work a laptop. The only exception to the 'no Muggle stuff' rule seemed to be the television remote, which Draco was loathe to share now he knew how to use it. Harry stepped forwards slowly, looking at Draco a little suspiciously. "And why have you got my computer?"

"I'm fixing it," Draco said, looking up at Harry with a wide smile on his face. Harry made a mental note to check that there was only the one empty bottle of wine in the vicinity.

"Fixing it." Harry said flatly as Draco drained his glass, reaching for the bottle and then looking faintly surprised when he realised it was empty.

"Yeah- Harry, can you get me some more wine?" Draco asked distractedly, looking around him for god-knows what.

"Yeah, sure." Harry said, sitting down next to him and taking the glass out of his hand and promptly putting it on the floor. "What was wrong with my-" He stopped mid-sentence, staring down at his keyboard.

"See?" Draco said helpfully. "The letters were all on the wrong way round so I put them right for you."

And indeed he had. Harry started to laugh- how could he not? Draco had managed to prise off every key from Harry's laptop and had thoughtfully rearranged them in alphabetical order.

"…and I didn't know what these ones did so I just stuck them over here- why are you laughing?"

Draco trailed off, looking genuinely hurt and Harry just laughed harder at the somewhat upset and perplexed expression on his face. He managed to calm himself down enough to take Draco's head in both of his hands, leaning forwards to kiss him gently.

"Thank you for the thought," Harry said, rubbing Draco's cheeks with his thumbs and smiling genuinely at him. Draco suddenly smiled back at him- one of Draco's rare brilliant smiles that he saved just for Harry- before moving forwards swiftly and planting a kiss on Harry's mouth, seizing him round the neck with both arms.

"Welcome," Draco said, his voice muffled as he didn't pull away from Harry's mouth to speak, manoeuvring on the sofa so he could push Harry onto his back and climb on top of him, still kissing him.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and kissed him back thoroughly, not minding at all that he tasted of red wine and that he'd probably wrecked his laptop. Yes, Draco was often a pain and sometimes he was a bloody liability, but Harry wouldn't trade his borderline alcoholic, computer wrecking menace for _anything_.


	18. R

R is for Revenge

* * *

"You know this is the equivalent of poking a sleeping dragon in the eye" Ron whispered to Harry as they tiptoed across the bedroom, their feet making next to no noise on the soft carpet. Not that it would have mattered anyway; Draco was a ridiculously heavy sleeper and after drinking a fair amount of wine that evening he would be dead to the land of the living for quite some time.

"He tipped _ice_ down my back and made me expose myself in front of everyone at the last party," Harry said back grimly. "He deserves it."

"You did start this, with the bagmimton racket…" Ron said, grinning nonetheless.

"Well we're going to end it," Harry replied, holding out a Magic-Magic Marker to Ron who took it from him, eyeing it with some satisfaction.

Ron clicked the cap of as Harry slunk around one side of the bed he and Draco shared, tapping the bedside lamp with his wand and bathing the room in soft light. "You know this stuff doesn't come off for days. You have to charm it off and it _hurts._" Ron said.

"Yep. I know."

Ron stole around to the same side of the bed as Harry, trying to suppress his giggles as Harry tugged the duvet away from Draco's face. Sure enough, Draco didn't even flinch, just carried on sleeping, flat out on his back with one arm above his head and the other resting on his stomach.

"Right, here we go," Harry grinned and they both leant down, marker pens aimed for Draco's face. Ron was a mere inch away from giving Draco a glorious Mexican moustache, when-

"NOW!"

Ron barely had time to register Harry's shout before letting out a shriek as Draco sprang up, wide awake and wasting no time in seizing Ron's hands and flipping him backwards, pinning him to the mattress. In five seconds flat Ron found himself bound tightly by conjured ropes and had the distinct impression something had gone very, very wrong in the course of this prank.

"What the hell? Harry!" Ron panicked as Draco wrenched the marker out of his hand which was trapped uselessly against his thigh. His fear for his personal safety was ratcheted up several notches as Draco clambered atop him, sitting across his chest. Ron didn't really like being this close to other blokes full stop- let alone Malfoy who, much to Ron's mortification, was clad only in his boxers. He started to howl but another charm from his supposed best friend and he was gagged and unable to make any noise past a strangled 'mmmf!'

"Nice one, Harry," Draco grinned, leaning forwards with the marker pen in hand. Ron took one look at it and started valiantly trying to throw off both Draco and his bindings, with less than no success.

"Stop wriggling," Draco said impatiently as Ron continued to thrash about like a grounded fish, trying to get free. Harry immediately scrambled onto the bed and held Ron's head in his hands, enabling Draco to quickly lean in and write something across Ron's forehead with the marker.

Harry stood back, eyeing the words on Ron's forehead. "Oh that's lovely. I thought you said you'd go for witty rather than crude?" He asked with amusement.

"Changed my mind," Draco said smugly over the sound of Ron's muffled cursing, clambering off of the bed to stand next to Harry, who turned to rummage in the drawer of the bedside cabinet.

"You see Weasley," Draco said airily. "Harry and I had a little chat and discovered a common factor in all these mean things we kept doing to each other. Namely, _you_."

Harry turned back around and Ron started thrashing violently again as he passed Draco- dear god no- a camera.

"Consider this revenge," Harry grinned as Draco raised the camera. "Say cheese."

* * *

_The morning after the night before..._

* * *

"So. _Ron Weasley loves cock_," Hermione read, her eyes fixed on her husband's forehead and her countenance weary. "Care to explain?"

Ron scowled and looked the other way, folding his arms across his chest. "No. No I would not."


	19. S

S is for Swearing.

* * *

FIRST OF ALL- sorry for the delay, we had an accident. Involving whiskey, a game of Risk, a swivel chair, a roll of tape and a fair bit of blood. Long story.

This drabble was inspired by a conversation that went something like this:

_"So Holmes, don't you think you should cut down on the swearing?" _

_"What, in my writing, or in real life?"_

_"Both."_

_"…No."_

So ha ha yes. Let's all mock the author for her love and over-use of naughty words :) And just for the record, I had waaay too much fun writing this.

* * *

"You pair of stupid, no-good, infuriating, fruitbats!"

Harry froze in the hallway as he heard Draco's shouts echoing through the house. The shouting wasn't unusual in itself, but the fact Draco was shouting and Harry hadn't even got home yet must have been some sort of record.

"Get your sorry fairground abacuses back here so I can hex you!"

Harry frowned, dropping his bag by the front door. Well that didn't sound right-

"Draco?" he shouted experimentally, taking a tentative step further into the house.

"POTTER! Get in here before I curse your fridge-freezer friends into oblivion!"

Harry hastily made his feet move; he only ever heard 'Potter' these days when Draco was really, really mad. He quickly went through into the kitchen and paused in the doorway as he saw Draco stood at one end of the kitchen table, pointing his wand at the Weasley twins who were at the other end; George holding a protesting Fred in front of him like some sort of human shield.

"Dare I ask?" Harry asked cautiously, making a mental note to check on how the twins seemed to be able to get into his house without a key or breaking any of the wards.

"This pair of carrots hexed me," Draco fumed.

"What? Carrots?" Harry asked, completely bewildered as George started to giggle.

"No, not fairycake carrots," Draco spat. "Complete farmhouse _continents_."

Harry looked at Fred and George, completely confused.

"We tested a new Wheeze on him," Fred grinned. "It's working _brilliantly_."

"You watermelons!" Draco dived around the table, furious, and Fred and George ran around in the same direction side Draco has just left, cackling with laughter.

"What did you give him?" Harry asked, accio-ing Draco's wand before things got out of hand. The last time Draco had been victim to a Weasley's Wizard Wheeze (known universally as either the hopping-mad Malfoy incident, or more commonly, the frog episode) George and Fred had been on the receiving end of a butter-fingers jinx from Draco which he refused to take off for a week and resulted in the twins dropping everything they attempted to pick up.

"Harry! Give that back you peacock!"

"Sugar Swears," George said promptly. "Also known as Pottymouth pastilles."

"One taste and the consumer loses all ability for curses of the bad language variety," Fred said brightly. "He thinks he's swearing and can still hear the swear words, but everyone else just hears a completely neutral, non-offensive replacement. We thought you in particular would appreciate that."

Harry was torn between laughing, shaking George's hand and demanding they give Draco the antidote. If they had one, that was. The inability to swear explained the murderous look on Draco's face; although Harry had to concede that the results of this latest Wheeze were rather entertaining.

"Harry, tell them to get rid of it," Draco bit out through gritted teeth. "Before I take the rest of those doorframe sweets and shove them up their fishmonger avocadoes."

"Oh I don't know," Harry grinned. "It's quite nice not being subjected to you and your four-letter words. Your mother would be thrilled if she knew."

"Furnace postcode! Tortoise! You're meant to be on my formula side you _handbag_!"

"Now I don't even know what that was meant to be," George said, looking at Draco with interest. "Is there even a swear word beginning with 'H'?"

"Well if there is, rest assured he knows it," Harry sighed.

Draco scowled at Harry and then his expression suddenly altered to something decidedly more calculating and dangerous. He walked over to Harry, wrapping his arms around his neck in a hug and pressing a kiss to Harry's ear, making Harry freeze on the spot, immediately on his guard.

"Are you going to hurt me?" he asked warily, ignoring the sniggers from the Weasleys in the background. "Because I had nothing to do with this-"

"No, I'm not going to hurt you," Draco whispered into Harry's ear. "I'm going to remind you of what day it is."

"Wednesday," Harry said back, nonplussed.

"Yes, and what is Wednesday night meant to be?"

Comprehension dawned and Harry's eyes widened. "Oh!"

"Yes, oh." Draco whispered grimly. "And I can tell you that the weekly tying Harry to the bed episode won't be half as much fun if the dirty talk is full of random words instead of the ones you _like_ me to say to you."

Harry immediately wrapped an arm around Draco's waist and span around, holding Draco to his side and pointing both his and Draco's wands at Fred and George. They both took alarmed steps back, holding their hands up in the air.

"Antidote, now." Harry said shortly and Draco shot the twins a smug grin.

"We don't have one," George said and then blanched as Draco took one of the wands out of Harry's hand and pointed it straight at his face.

"In the paper bag on the table," Fred said immediately. "The white ones are the Sugar Swears, the purple ones cancel it out. It'll wear off in a few hours by itself though, if you just want to wait-"

Harry summoned the bag and Draco grabbed it out of the air, delving inside and snatching out a small purple sweet. "Are you sure this is the antidote?" Draco asked, eyes narrowed. "If it isn't, so help me I will fudge you up so badly-"

"Weasley's honour," Fred said solemnly and Draco shot him a withering luck before popping the sweet into his mouth.

Harry watched him apprehensively as he swallowed. "Did it work?"

"I don't know, do I? Draco said impatiently. "I heard the swear words all along anyway-"

"Go on then, treat us to one of your four-letter delights," Fred prompted.

"Fuck off, Weasley!"

Harry sagged in relief, exhaling heavily and Draco at once perked up, looking from Fred to Harry. "Has it stopped? Has it?"

"Yes, it's stopped," Harry said, shaking his head. "You are R rated once again."

"Oh yes! Thank fuck for that!" Draco said happily.

"What happened to the putting your friends before sex rule?" Fred muttered to George as Draco set about thoroughly checking that all his favourite swear words were functioning and operational, Harry wincing by his side.

"I don't know," George sighed, grabbing his coat off the back of a chair and getting ready to leave. "Come on, let's get out of here before he remembers he's mad at us."

"Thanks guys," Harry muttered with a smile as they passed him, holding out the bag of sweets for them to take back.

"Keep them," Fred said with a grin. "You might need them for when you next visit his Mum."

Harry rolled his eyes good naturedly and gave Fred a shove. "Go on. Get out of here."

"Yes boss," Fred said, following George out of the room, turning at the front door to shoot Harry a knowing wink. "Have fun fishing!"


	20. T

T is for Teddy-Bear

* * *

Sorry for the delay and the less than stellar chapter, had some drama at basecamp, and I rewrote this one like five times and hated it every edit.

On another note: I've been contemplating delving into the world of live-journal to spread the Drarry love. What do we think? Worth it? I kinda feel out of the loop with the Drarry circuit so may just stay here. And I'm too impatient to work out how to use LJ and it is WINDING ME UP.

* * *

"You got the camera?" Ron asked Seamus in a low-voice, checking for the tenth time that his wand was in his pocket. Seamus nodded and held up the device, a grin breaking over his face as they walked across the room and approached the door.

"One photo, and then run," Blaise Zabini said matter of factly as they reached him, leaning against the doorway that led up to the room that he shared with Draco Malfoy. Over on the other side of the Eighth Years common room Hermione was sat at a table and watching their progress, looking far from amused. She knew what they had been plotting and what they were about to do and wanted no part of it whatsoever.

"Isn't he gonna be mad at you for this?" Seamus asked Blaise curiously. "I mean, you two are meant to be mates and all…"

"Oh yeah," Blaise said offhandedly, holding out his hand. Seamus sighed and then shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small bag of money, dropping it into Blaise's hand.

"Pleasure doing business with you gentlemen," Blaise grinned and pressed his hand to the door, which unlocked with a series of grinding clicks at his touch.

Ron and Seamus looked at each other with trepidation and then pushed through the doorway and started up the spiral staircase. This really was too good an opportunity to pass up: a week ago there had been an altercation between Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson (something about Draco turning down her sexual advances- Ron couldn't really blame him if he were honest) which resulted in Parkinson complaining and bitching non-stop about Malfoy for the next seven days.

Ron had just about had enough and was about to hex Parkinson's mouth shut when she had unwittingly let slip a most delicious piece of information about Malfoy- according to her, Malfoy still slept with his _teddy-bear_, refusing to give it up even after nearly nineteen years. Parkinson had snivelled and said how it made Draco sensitive and in-tune with his feelings and therefore perfect for her. Ron and Seamus had said it made Malfoy a pansy and were determined to get proof so they could ridicule him for weeks, maybe _years_, to come.

They reached the room and luckily found the upper door wide open. The proof they needed was just ten feet away, behind the curtains of Malfoy's bed that were drawn tightly, obstructing their view of the blonde and the fabled bear.

"Damn," Seamus whispered.

Ron privately agreed. They were now going to have to get closer to Malfoy's bed than could be considered safe, but they had had to do a significant amount of plotting and bribery to gain access to this room and weren't about to back out now. So regardless of the danger, they crept forwards until they were standing right next to the green hangings, listening intently for any sign that Malfoy was awake. When none came, Ron reached out and took the material in hand, nodding to Seamus who raised the camera, grinning in anticipation.

Ron took a deep breath and wrenched the curtains back-

"AAAAUGH!"

Shrieks came from both sides of the curtain; Seamus fell backwards, trying to cover his eyes and hitting himself in the face with the camera that he still held in his hand and Ron let go of the curtain in terror, trying to make his legs run away. Because Malfoy didn't have a teddy in his bed, he had _Harry._

"What the fuck, Weasley?" Draco shouted furiously, pulling the covers up over himself.

"Ron, it's not what it looks like!" Harry began, also making attempts to cover his naked body but Ron looked at him in disbelief and he blushed furiously.

"GET OUT!" Draco bellowed and Ron made himself take a step back, treading on Seamus who yelped and nearly fell over again.

"Parkinson said you had a teddy-bear!" Ron blurted out in horror. "We wanted to laugh at you, that's it, we swear, we just wanted to see if it was true so we could laugh at you because you laugh at us all the time and oh god, we didn't know-"

Ron didn't finish his sentence before he and Seamus were tripping over each other to get to the door, falling through the archway and also down the stairs by the sound of things. Harry and Draco sat perfectly still for a moment, and then looked at each other, knowing that their cover had just been blown. "So…" Harry began, and then his awkward expression gave way to a grin. "They wanted to catch you sleeping with your teddy-bear?"

"Pansy's a bitch," Draco grumbled, lying back down. "She can't ever keep her mouth shut, she's a rubbish Slytherin-"

"Rubbish, but accurate," Harry grinned, delving under the pillow with one hand and pulling out a rather worn and battered looking bear with green pads on its paws and buttons for eyes. "You do still have your teddy-bear."

"He's _not_ a teddy-bear, he's an _heirloom_," Draco snapped, pulling the bear from Harry's hands and setting him carefully atop the pillows on the other side of the bed, far away from Harry. "He was Mothers."

Harry grinned, lying back down beside Draco as the blonde laid back down and kissing him on the tip of his nose. "An heirloom. Course."


	21. U

U is for Under-The-Weather.

* * *

I have the plague. Well it feels like it anyway. Misery loves company and all, so I thought I'd spread the love. And by love I mean germs.

* * *

"Pansy, don't leave me," Draco begged, holding onto the sleeve of her robe so tightly his knuckles went white.

"I've got to go! I've got lunch with Theo and I'm late already," she said, trying to extricate the sleeve of her robes from Draco's grip. "And I think he wants picking up." She added pointedly, looking down with an eyebow raised.

Draco spared a glance to the wailing four year old that was clinging onto one of his legs. "Yes, but if I pick him up, I have to let go of you."

"Draco Malfoy! That is your _son," _Pansy snapped. "Stop being such a drama queen and deal with it."

"Five of them, Pants. I've got to look after all _five _of them, by myself."

"Think of it as character building," she said. "Now let me go and pick him up before his crying splits my eardrums."

Draco threw her a dirty look but let go of her sleeve nonetheless, stooping to grab Scorpius and heave him up into his arms, pulling a disgusted face as Scorpius buried his tear and snot covered face into the crook of his neck. "Urgh, God, you're revolting."

"You're terrible," Pansy admonished, stepping smartly towards the floo. "He's sick, _be nice_."

"You shut up about nice," Draco retorted, running his palm up and down Scorpius's back to soothe him. It worked; his crying turned into muted sniffles and hiccups. "If you were nice you'd stay and help me."

"Well where's Astoria?" Pansy asked, reaching for the tin of floo powder that was on the mantlepiece. "Or any of the Weasleys?"

"France with the new husband and otherwise occupied," Draco sighed.

"Oh," Pansy said, giving him a wide smile. "Shame, that." She waved and before disappearing in a whirl of green flames.

"Bitch." Draco snapped after her, frustrated.

"Bitch," Scorpius repeated, the word muffled in Draco's neck. Draco winced, half heartedly hoping that Scorpius wouldn't choose to repeat _that_ one the next time he went to stay with his grandparents.

A wail came from down the corridor and Draco groaned. He had a mountain of paperwork to get through or face the wrath of a very angry goblin on Monday morning, and if he were honest he wanted nothing to do with this lot and their germs. He loved his family, he really did, but children were vile creatures at the best of times and that went double when they were sick.

He left the sitting room and half way down the corridor the source of the wail became evident; Al was shuffling along in his bare feet clutching his favourite blanket which dragged along the floor behind him. Draco made a mental note to steal and _scourgify_ it the next time Al let the damn thing go.

"Draco, I'm _sick_," Al said miserably.

Draco shifted Scorpius onto one hip and bent down with some difficulty to scoop Al up as well. He staggered slightly as he straightened back up. Christ, four year olds really shouldn't be this heavy.

"I know, you should be in bed," Draco frowned as Al snaked his arms around his neck.

"Want to stay with _you_," Al whined, sniffing.

Draco was about to reply when a diversion appeared in the form of James. He looked tired and pale and was carrying Lily who was looking like she was about to start howling. Draco really hoped she wouldn't; she may only have been three but she was louder than the rest of them put together.

"Lily won't stay in her room," James said flatly.

"Come here," Draco instructed, noting James's pale face and too-bright eyes. James obediently shuffled forwards. "Closer, come on I can't reach with these two on me," he said impatiently. James took another step to stand right in front of him and with some difficulty Draco pressed the back of his hand to James forehead, using his forearm to hold Scorpius to him without dropping him.

"I'm fine," James said, pushing the hand away. Draco shot him a _look, _the same look James got when he claimed he'd done tidying his room properly.

James mumbled something unintelligible, looking at his feet.

"Bed, all of you." Draco said firmly, grimacing as Al started coughing all over him.

James shook his head violently, Al and Scorpius started up with twin howls and Lily's lip wobbled dangerously. Draco counted backwards from ten silently, reminding himself that normally all four of his children were wonderful beings that lit up his days and never caused him any trouble. That wasn't strictly true, but if a small twist of the truth got him through the warzone that the Malfoy/Potter household had become whilst stricken with flu, he'd believe it.

"Are you OK?"

He looked up to hear a croaky voice, and saw Harry had just come downstairs and was looking at him with concern on his face. Draco sighed and shook his head at his other half, who looked nothing short of terrible. His pyjamas were creased and sweaty, his skin pale, his eyes bloodshot and he looked exhausted.

"Get back to bed," Draco said. "You look like shit."

"Da-aaad, we're all _sick_," Albus called and Harry immediately started shuffling forwards, holding his hand out as if gesturing to take one of the kids.

"Not a chance," Draco said dangerously. "Go get back in bed."

"Let me at least take Al or Scorpius back to their room," Harry said stubbornly, shivering and looking altogether rather pathetic. Draco sighed again; it would be so easy to dump all four of the brats on Harry to deal with and then run off to hide in his study untill there was no more coughing or sneezing. Draco knew that Harry would jump in and take over responsibility for the kids even if he were at death's door; however, for some unfathomable reason he couldn't bring himself to do that to his poor state of a boyfriend.

"Come on Al, back to bed," Harry said, reaching out expectantly and predictably. Draco snorted somewhat derisively; Harry obviously hadn't grown out of being a noble, self-sacrificing, Gryffindor prat.

"No, want to stay with Draco," Al whined and Draco shot Harry an exasperated look.

"What is it going to take to get you lot to get back in bed and _stay_ there?"

Harry glanced at James who glanced at Draco who looked back at Harry who looked over to Lily and then to Al and Scorpius who were clinging onto Draco like survivors from a shipwreck on driftwood.

"Oh for-" Draco stopped himself before he gave Scorpius another four letter word to add to his vocabulary. He took a deep breath. "Alright. Come on, the lot of you."

* * *

_Half an hour later…_

* * *

Draco lowered his book carefully, glancing around to check all was still well. On the bed next to him, Harry was laid on his side, looking close to comfortable for the first time since he'd got sick a couple of days ago. In-between Draco and Harry lay Scorpius, his back pressed againt Draco's side, his face buried in Harry's chest and his thumb wedged in his mouth. On Draco's other side was Al, his arms and legs spread out like starfish, occasionally kicking Draco in the hip as he twitched. Just behind Al was James, who at the last minute had decided that he actually wasn't too grown up to join the rest of them in bed. Lily was laid atop Draco, her head on his chest, and her arms wrapped as far around him as her little limbs would reach.

They were all fast asleep, their snuffling breaths filling the room with a quiet soundtrack. It was too warm and sticky and Draco was resigned to being covered in sweat, tears, dribble and a disgusting amount of snot. As he watched, Lily shifted restlessly and Draco immediately reached down to gently stroke her hair, watching carefully lest she wake up. Thankfully she didn't, and the rest of his family carried on sleeping in peace.

He couldn't help but smile. Two and a bit years ago he would have predicted that he'd never have anyone else in his bed but nameless one night stands, and now he had this. A bed full of disgusting sick children and a disgusting sick boyfriend. But he had to admit to himself, that even with all the germs and the fact he'd got nothing done all day, he wouldn't have moved for anything.


	22. V

V is for Veela.

* * *

With due credit to no sleep and a lot of Jaegermeister, I think this may have strayed slightly from tongue-in-cheek land into the realm of crack!fiction.

Yes I am poking fun slightly- but to be honest it is more at my own expense. My personal attempt at starting a requested Veela fic crashed and burned; my snarky bastardtastic Draco that I love to write just doesn't seem to want to grow wings and be pretty and/or nice.

*faceplam* I am ridiculous. You've been warned.

* * *

"Harry? I'm not going to lie. I'm a bit scared."

Harry spared a glance at Draco who was stood motionless, his palms pressed to the cool pane of the French window, his forehead also nearly touching the glass. His eyes were wide and he was worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he looked out into the darkness. Harry reached out and put a hand on Draco's shoulder, before looking back out of the window himself.

"I don't blame you," he said and Draco shifted a little closer to him, pressing against Harry's side.

"Who are they?" Draco asked, not taking his eyes off the hoarde of people that were outside their house, the neon orange light spilling from the streetlamps making the figures clearly visible through the tall wrought iron gate that shut off the driveway. They were shouting and screaming and reaching out through the gate with their pale slender arms, all looking a little desperate.

"Well…" Harry said slowly. "You're not going to like this."

"I don't fucking like this already, Potter; now tell me what's going on!"

"They're Veela," Harry said matter of factly.

"_What?_"

"Well, someone wrote a story about you becoming a Veela and losing all sense of personality and turning all heavenly and wonderful and angelic…" Harry took a deep breath. "It got published in _Witch Weekly's_ story section...And the Veela read it and they think you're _actually _like that so now they want to mate with you."

Draco turned his horrified gaze on Harry. "They want to _what_ me?"

Harry shrugged. "Well what can I say? The story was very well written. It was very…convincing."

"Well convince them to fuck off," Draco said, edging behind Harry as if aiming to use him as a human shield, peering nervously over his shoulder. "Do your Chosen One thing and tell them to leave me the fuck alone!"

"I'm not going out there," Harry said indignantly, looking back over his shoulder at Draco. "They might try and mate with me instead, look how out of control they've got! Or they'll kill me to try and get to you!"

"Well, rather you than me." Draco insisted.

"How chivalrous," Harry snorted.

"I'm not trying to be chivalrous!" Draco said. "I'm using both my Slytherin cunning and your Gryffindor courage to get us out of this mess. By sacrificing you."

"Or," Harry said, wriggling out of Draco's grip and turning to face his other half, folding his arms across his chest and sounding exasperated. "We could just firecall the Ministry and get the Department for Regulation of Magical Creatures to come and round them up."

"Oh," Draco paused and then turned away with a nonchalant shrug, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. I guess that'd work."


	23. W

W is for Wellingtons.

* * *

Is wellingtons a British term? I know they're called gum-boots in New Zealand but I'm rubbish with Americanisms.

Waterproof shoes! That's starts with W.

* * *

"I am _not _wearing those."

Harry felt like crying with exasperation. They had been walking all day and now they were just two minutes away from camp and Draco was throwing his fourth tantrum of the day. Granted, the second one had only been a little one but still, Harry's nerves were shot.

"They are disgusting, cold, rubbery, Muggle shoes. I'm not putting them on my feet."

"That's the point! To experience the way _Muggles_ do things," Harry said, exasperated. "If you don't, you won't get the mark for using them. And besides that, you'll have to cross the stream in your boots and if you slip, or get injured or get back in a state I'll get in trouble." Harry tried to explain, but he knew by the look on Draco's face he was fighting a losing battle.

"_No._" Draco said, folding his arms across his chest.

"Would you rather get wet feet?" Harry asked and Draco shot him a malevolent look.

Harry was pretty sure Draco was now only arguing for the sake of arguing, something he had become accustomed to since being partnered with Draco for their Muggle Studies practical assignments. Sometimes it was vastly entertaining but today he was really not in the mood.

"Please?" Harry said and Draco looked pointedly away. "Look, you know I would waterproof your feet if I was allowed."

"Yeah?" Draco asked sullenly and Harry nodded. Draco aimed a half-hearted kick at the wellington boots that were on the floor. "This assignment is _stupid_."

"I know," Harry sighed. It was the latest in the series of _travelling without magic_ assignments and they were having to walk a designated route around the Hogwarts grounds without the use of magic, and Harry was betting that not everyone would get back in one piece.

"There's nothing else we can do," Harry said and immediately noticed the glance Draco sent him.

"What?" he asked suspiciously.

Draco shrugged, suddenly obsessed with examining his fingernails, scuffing his foot on the floor. "Well, there is something…"

* * *

"You think Malfoy's killed him?" Ron asked, sprawled out on his back with his hands behind his head, eyes shut in the warmth of the sun.

Hermione frowned at him, nudging Ron with her elbow. "No. I bet they're just bickering."

"So what is the write up to this?" Ron yawned.

"We have to compare how we would have done the route using magic, and how it differed using Muggle means," Hermione said. "Like having to use the map and landmarks instead of locator charms and point me spells, and using-" she trailed off, starting to laugh and Ron looked up, craning his neck.

"What?"

"Looks like Malfoy found a way around the stream," she giggled, pointing down the track they they'd come up not ten minutes ago.

"Is he actually wearing the wellingtons?" Ron asked, sitting up and shielding his eyes from the sun as he peered the way Hermione was pointing. "God I will laugh so hard if he is, a _Malfoy_ in wellies-" he stopped, looking dismayed and sounding resigned. "Oh, Harry, mate- that's _not _dignified."

* * *

"You happy now?" Harry asked, panting slightly with the effort of carrying Draco piggy-back towards the camp. At least the git wasn't too heavy. Also, he'd never admit it, but he kinda liked carrying Draco like this; there was something casually intimate about it that Harry really appreciated. And he supposed Draco's method had some other merits; Draco had stopped complaining the moment Harry had picked him up and seemed perfectly content once more. They had also got past the obstacle of the stream without having to use magic or both pairs of wellington boots.

"Very," Draco said, resting his chin on Harry's shoulder and Harry could hear the smile in his voice. "I'll make it up to you later," he murmured and Harry grinned as Draco pressed a kiss to the side of his face.

"You better," Harry said, still smiling as they neared the camp. "You do know this counts as a Muggle way of doing things, right?"

Draco laughed, wrapping his arms loosely around Harry's neck. "Well seeing as I get to be pressed up against you _and_ be super lazy… I'd say this is an infinitely better option than wearing fucking _wellingtons_."


	24. X

X is for Xerox

* * *

First a note on V, W and Y: I think some of you got V and some didn't...It was intended as a spoof of 'Draco as a Veela stories', because I can't wrap my head around them and so went for the comedy route. For W- thank you to the people who pointed out international translations for wellingtons: rain-boots and rubber-boots :) And I still need a Y- prompts please!

Back to this one.

American: Xerox. English: Photocopy. Which to me makes way more sense as a word.

* * *

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

Harry winced, hiding his head under the pillow and groaning as he heard a shout from somewhere in the house. His head was pounding and his back hurt and his mouth tasted awful, and he was never drinking, never _ever_ again.

The door flung open with a crash and Harry remained hiding under the blankets, wanting nothing more than to stay in there until someone bought him a hangover potion or it went away on its own accord.

"_Get_ out of there, _right now_, or I'm going to curse you."

Apparently when you were married to Draco Malfoy, staying in bed to feel sorry for yourself whilst sleeping off a hangover was not an option. He guessed it was too much to hope Draco was dragging him out of bed to bring him any hangover cures or glasses of water. He slowly pulled the blanket off of his head, feeling nauseous and his headache doubling in intensity as he emerged into the light.

"So, I put up with you waking me up and trying to grope me when you get in at three o'clock this fucking morning absolutely _trashed, _when you knew I had training at _six-" _Draco began in a dangerous voice._ "_But if you don't come up with a good explanation for _this _in the next twenty seconds I'm going to be fucking pissed."

"And you sure you're not already?" Harry bravely (or stupidly) said, his voice hoarse.

"_Thin_ fucking ice, Potter," Draco fumed and Harry gulped. He only ever got called Potter these days when he was in serious trouble or when they were having really rough sex.

"What is 'this'?" Harry asked Draco, rubbing his face and struggling to sit up, leaning back against the headboard. "What have I done?"

"You don't remember?" Draco asked incredulously. Harry watched his blurry outline walk forwards into the room and then his glasses were shoved unceremoniously onto his face. Harry straightened them and looked up at his other half and immediately felt ten times grubbier and more disgusting; Draco was clean and fresh and wearing one of his skin tight white T-shirts that normally went under his Quidditch gear, along with a dangerously low riding pair of black jogging bottoms and looked absolutely fricking gorgeous.

"Erm…I remember being at the Ministry Formal with Ron and Neville…" Harry trailed off, turning beseeching eyes on Draco. "Can we please talk about this when I don't feel like death?"

Instead of words, Harry received several sheets of paper thrown smartly in his face. What the fuck-? Blinking hard, he looked down and tried to focus on the sheets of paper in his lap. Hang on- double what the fuck?

"Draco- is that-?"

"_Yes._ That is your arse," Draco said furiously. "And apparently, there is one of those pictures on _every_ notice-board in your department."

"Oh, fuck," Harry gaped, looking up at Draco. "Where did you get these?"

"_Someone_ stuck them on my locker at the stadium," Draco snapped and Harry winced. "You better hope it was fucking Weasley or the other explanation is that those pictures are already everywhere-"

Comprehension hit Harry at the mention of Ron's surname- a bubble of drunken memory surfaced and popped and he remembered a point that was somewhere after their fifth or sixth or maybe even seventh Firewhisky. He recalled Ron telling him in an excitable voice all about the magic machine in the misuse of Muggle artefacts office that could copy things out like a Gemino charm. Accompanied by Neville, they had ducked out of the party and snuck up to the room where the magic machine was being held and then Harry had proceeded to show Neville and Ron just exactly how to work a Muggle photocopier.

"Oh, God." Harry said miserably and slumped sideways, curling up in a pathetic hungover ball.

"Not a chance," Draco said archly and the Harry almost cried as the blankets were promptly vanished, leaving him nude, exposed and very cold. "Get up, get in the shower and then _go get rid of them_, you great prat."

Draco marched to the doorway and Harry was _almost_ too hungover to remember to watch his arse on the way out. Draco paused in the doorway and turned, eyeing Harry for a moment before pointing his wand at him; Harry flinched, waiting for the hex he knew he deserved-

"_Accio."_

The sheets of paper flew off of the bed and into Draco's hand. Harry raised his eyebrows and Draco shrugged, turning around and calling back over his shoulder.

"Never said I wouldn't keep one for myself."


	25. Y

Y is for Yes

* * *

THANK YOU to everyone who sent me get well messages and whatnot- it really has helped and made me feel loads better :) Just to reassure you- I'm not 'sick' per se and will be fine. I've posted a note on my LJ explaining what has gone on if anyone wishes to know, and the link to that can be found on my profile. If not, worry not and here is the long awaited Y, and Z will follow tomorrow XD

* * *

"Potter, wait!"

Draco pushed past a pair of second year Ravenclaws as he left the Great Hall, his eyes scanning the entrance hall for the familiar dark-haired figure that had left a few seconds previously. He saw him striding away past a group of first years who nervously dodged out of his way, watching him with wide eyes. Draco growled in frustration; Harry must have heard his shout but he hadn't stopped and Draco swore as the Gryffindor marched across the entrance hall and out of the front doors.

"POTTER!"

Draco ran after him and skidded to a halt in the doorway, looking up in despair; it was pouring with rain and Potter, the great prat, had marched out without a coat or any protection against the elements. Draco shifted agitatedly from foot to foot, looking after Harry with anguish clearly written over his face, thinking miserably of the warmth and comfort he had just left behind in the Great Hall.

"Damn it, Harry!"

Loathe to get wet as he was; Draco bit his lip and dived out of the front door after him. He was freezing and drenched in seconds, his thin school shirt turning almost transparent and sticking to him like a second skin.

"Harry!"

His shout was almost lost under the sound of the wind and the rain which was hammering down on the surface of the lake, but Harry heard him and this time he stopped. He whipped around to face him, feet apart and fists clenched in a pose that clearly invited a fight. Draco had seen it before and normally swiftly backed down when Harry was that angry, but this time it wasn't an option.

"Leave me alone, Draco. This is over," Harry said as Draco ran up to him, his voice shaking with barely contained anger.

"No!" Draco replied unsteadily, reaching out for Harry's hand with one of his own. Harry knocked it away, hard.

"Fuck off!"

Draco reached out again and grabbed hold of Harry's sopping wet sleeve, desperate to get Harry to stay and hear him out. Harry viciously twisted his arm away, glaring at Draco for all he was worth but Draco clung on, his fingers gripping the fabric so tightly they hurt.

"Get off me," Harry said, his voice dangerous.

"No," Draco repeated. "We need to talk about this-"

"There's nothing to talk about!" Harry shouted, his free hand gesticulating wildly. Rivulets of water were coursing down his face, smattering over his glasses and obscuring his vision but he gave them no acknowledgement. "You're giving in to that stupid arranged marriage, and I am _not_ going to fucking sit there and watch that Greengrass bitch sit next to you like she has any claim-"

The snipe at Astoria didn't go unnoticed by Draco and he blanched; Harry must have been _beyond_ furious to be launching insults at undeserving others. Astoria was just as much a victim in this situation as Draco; he knew full well she didn't want to marry him either and she had told him as such on more than one occasion.

"Will you shut up and listen to me!" Draco shouted, cutting across him. "I want to stay with you!"

Harry shook his head. "No you don't." he said flatly. "You want to do whatever your Father says."

Draco helplessly blinked the water out of his eyes. Harry looked at him a beat longer and then smiled bitterly, pulling his sleeve out of Draco's grip, turning away and walking down the sodden grass towards the lake, his head bowed. Draco stood watching him, his heart twisting itself into knots as the rain continued to fall, running cold rivers down his face.

"Anything you want, I'll say yes."

Harry froze as Draco called out to his retreating back, turning back slowly to look at the blonde.

"You'd agree to anything I asked of you?" he asked slowly. "Anything?"

Draco swallowed thickly and nodded, feeling all at once incredibly vulnerable, the experience heightened as Harry stepped back up to him, his green eyes burning into Draco's grey. _Yes…_the word ran over and over in Draco's mind, on the tip of his tongue, ready to give Harry anything he wanted no matter how scared it made him-

"Then leave me alone," Harry whispered. "Go marry your precious pureblood girlfriend and have your Malfoy heirs and leave me out of it."

Draco's jaw dropped.

"Not a fucking chance!"

Harry shouted in anger and shoved Draco hard in the chest, making him stumble backwards, staggering painfully and awkwardly on his ankle. Despite the shooting pain he didn't fall and managed to recover, catching hold of the brunette's elbows and yanking him forwards, in turn sending him tripping forwards into him. Their chests bumped together and Draco seized his opportunity, crashing his mouth over Harry's and kissing him hard.

Harry tensed and Draco did as well, fully expecting Harry to push him off or punch him, both perfectly viable options. He waited, his heart hammering in the base of his throat and then the unthinkable happened; Harry relaxed and hesitantly kissed him back, his hands unclenching from Draco's shirt and running gently down his soaked chest.

Breaking the kiss, Harry rested his forehead on Draco's, his eyes screwed tightly shut. "You were meant to say yes, not argue with me," he whispered.

"Well you're asking the wrong fucking questions. Stop pushing me away and take the opportunity to sort this out before I remember my sense of propriety and self preservation, you great Gryffindor idiot." Draco replied and Harry gave a weak smile along with a noise that was somewhere between a sob and a hiccup.

"OK then," he said, but didn't continue. Silence fell and Draco waited impatiently, wanting this to be resolved and done with before the tension and vulnerability gave him a heart attack.

"Now would be a good time for these questions," Draco said quickly before he could stop himself.

Harry smiled weakly again and then took a deep breath. "Will you stay with me? Be with me properly?"

Draco didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Tell everyone about us?"

A thrill of fear ran through him but his response was just as definite as the previous. "Yes."

Harry's smile grew stronger by degrees. "Will you tell your father to stick his stupid marriage plans where the sun doesn't shine? Refuse to marry that bint and run away with me?"

Laughing softly, Draco nodded. "Not in those exact words and probably without the horrifically clichéd romantic overtones, but yes."

Comfortable silence fell, neither needing to say or hear any more. They stood as close together as possible, pressed together hip to hip and chest to chest, ignoring the rain even as water dripped from their sodden clothes. Draco didn't mind as much anymore; getting drenched suddenly seemed a small price to pay in return for the step he and Harry had just taken. A delicious thrill ran through him as he thought about what he'd just done; saying yes to Harry and doing what _he _wanted and not what was expected of him...it was exhilarating.

"So," Draco said after a while, shivering slightly, his fringe plastered to his forehead by the water. "Can I dispense with the saying yes to everything thing now I've made my point?"

Running his hands up and down Draco's arms to try and soothe away the chill caused by the rain, Harry smiled. "Oh I don't know. I was getting used to the idea of getting my own way all the time."

"Well how about…if you take me back to your room right now, we can have a hot shower to warm up and then I'll show you the other ways in which you can make me say _yes_." Draco whispered against his ear.

Harry's eyes widened and he pulled back a little to stare at Draco. "Fuck yes!"

Draco managed a tired smirk. "Well, that too…"


	26. Z

Z is for Zero...

* * *

I'm not sure which dimension this one is in. My bad.

I hope you get it anyway, it's slightly…odd. XD

* * *

"Morning."

Draco looked up from where he was sat at the kitchen table as Harry wandered in, tousle haired and yawning, clad only in his boxers and a pair of odd socks. Draco shook his head in a mixture of fondness and exasperation as Harry flopped down onto a chair opposite him, reaching for a mug and the coffee pot.

"What's on the agenda today?" Harry yawned, scratching his knee as he poured himself out a drink.

"I don't know," Draco replied, pushing the milk over towards Harry. "We've not been sent anything."

Harry looked at him in surprise. "Nothing?"

"No, nothing," Draco said in confirmation, rolling his eyes. "Zip, zero, zilch. Nothing."

"But I thought she wanted this done today so she could get on with the new story?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, turning the page of the Daily Prophet that was spread out on the table in front of him. "Since when has she _ever_ stuck to a schedule? I'll bet she's hungover and can't even pick up a pen, let alone deliver us a new script."

"Give her a break, she's written twenty-five of them," Harry admonished gently, sipping his drink.

"Not a chance," Draco replied archly. "I'll give her a break when she gives _us_ a break. I've only just dried out from that episode yesterday, and there is no way on Earth that I'm _ever_ forgiving her for P."

Harry started to laugh and Draco scowled across the table at him. "Oh come on, that one was easy," Harry teased. "You just had to sit there and whine, not far from normal, really."

"Shut up," Draco snapped and Harry chuckled. "Stop laughing, I've come off way worse than you have in these-"

"I don't think so," Harry said, his eyes widening. "Remember Obliviate?"

He shuddered and Draco sighed, hating to see the sad expression that had descended over his partners normally smiling face. He held out his hand but Harry didnt take it; instead he slipped out of his chair and padded around the table, using one of his feet to push Draco's legs out to the side before sitting on his lap instead.

"You know it wasn't real," Draco said, slipping his arms around his waist and pressing his mouth to Harry's shoulder, feeling content with the familiar warm weight on his legs and the feel of Harry's skin against his. He shut his eyes and breathed in and out deeply, gently squeezing Harry in the way he knew would reassure him.

"Yeah but it was still horrible," Harry muttered. "Having you that upset was awful. There was no need for it."

"Well what about Ghosts then?" Draco asked. "You were _dying_ and I had to hang around and watch."

"You knew I wasn't really sick," Harry shrugged.

"That's my point about the Obliviate one, too." Draco said gently. "Let's just say they were hard for the both of us. I suppose we got lucky she goes for humour rather than traumatic most of the time."

Harry snorted. "I think traumatic goes hand in hand with her sense of humour somedays," he said wryly. Draco was pleased to see that despite the sardonic tone, the dark cloud had lifted from Harry's face and he looked calm once more. "I mean, I had to kiss a frog. I'd say that definitely counts as coming off worse."

"I would have been turned into a frog if she'd written a hundred words more." Draco countered, pulling his face away from Harry's skin so he could argue properly. "And I got covered in jam, _and_ got hit with a badminton racket."

"You got me back for that! And you nearly knocked me out in Camping, _and _you slapped me in L!"

Draco laughed at the indignant look on Harry's face. "I think we're blaming the entirely wrong people here. _We_ didn't write the stupid things."

"Yeah, you're right," Harry grumbled, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I suppose there were some good times, though."

"Revenge was sweet," Draco said with a smirk and Harry laughed.

"She had to bribe Ron with chocolate frogs to get him to appear in T after that. He was _not_ happy."

"I can imagine," Draco smirked. "I liked W as well."

"Yeah, because you spent the day being carried around," Harry said and Draco nodded happily.

"Good times indeed."

They lapsed into comfortable silence, Draco gently pressing kisses along Harry's bare shoulder, Harry shutting his eyes and humming contentedly under the attention. All too soon the moment was broken by a tapping sound and Harry opened his eyes to see a familiar owl at the kitchen window, looking impatient.

"There we go, that'll be the new script," Draco said, pushing Harry up off of his knee.

Harry wandered across the kitchen and shoved the window up to allow the owl to hop in, a large envelope clamped in its beak. Harry took the envelope, frowning. "This is way heavier than usual," he remarked, shooing the owl back out the window.

"It's the last one, I'm sure she's had some sort of crazy idea," Draco said, holding his hand out. "I'm not entirely sure how she's going to get one for Z anyway."

"You said that about X," Harry reminded him, walking over to stand behind him, running his hands over his shoulders. "I'll bet we end up at the zoo."

"Or Loony Lovegood tries to convince us that horoscopes are real," Draco said as he ripped the top off of the envelope. He paused, looking at Harry's somewhat baffled expression. "Zodiac."

"Oh, yeah! That'd be good. I've not seen Luna in a while," Harry said happily.

"Well then it will be Z for Zero-tolerance, which is what I have for that crazy bint," Draco said and Harry gave him a reproachful look as Draco shoved his hand into the envelope and pulled out a sheet of parchment.

...

_Draco and Harry/Harry and Draco_

_I failed miserably in coming up with a witty or emotional script for a Z- I'm rubbish I know. But the good news is that instead of dragging you out on a half-arsed idea I thought I'd give you the day off. Consider it an unashamed bribe for forgiveness after everything I've put you through in this series. __Remind me not to do drabbles ever again. See you soon._

_Love, Holmes._

_PS. I've included a small present incase you're stuck for ideas about what to do with your day off. I know Harry was gutted not to get to the rest of E is for Eclipse, so here's your chance. _

_PPS. The present is YOURS to KEEP. I don't want it back, or to see it again, ever._

_..._

"What a lazy bitch!" Draco said incredulously, rereading the note as Harry took the envelope out of his hand. "Day off my arse, she just can't think of anything else! This present better be good or I'm sending her a Howler-"

Harry tipped the envelope upside down over the table and a large wooden spoon came clattering onto the tabletop. Draco and Harry stared at it, and then looked at each other, eyes wide.

"The thing," Harry said, a grin slowly spreading over his face.

"With the ties _and_ the blindfold _and_ the spoon," Draco finished breathlessly.

Their eyes met and they both moved at once; Draco scrambling out of his chair and Harry seizing the spoon off the table, both tripping over themselves to get to the door that would lead them back to the bedroom.

"Shotgun going first!" Draco shouted over his shoulder and Harry grinned, hot on his heels.

"You're on!"

* * *

Aha. Once again *faceplam* If anyone watches Supernatural and knows what I'm on about- that was me being the prophet Chuck XD

Thank you to EVERYONE who had read and enjoyed the drabbles (one-shots?), they've been a lot of fun to write and the prompts you lot gave me were brilliant! And another thank you to all of you for the support during tricky times :) and the final thank you is for the all wonderful reviews- every one is appreciated and good god some of them made me giggle!

So, anyone got a favorite? I can't decide!


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